


The Things We Left Behind

by electricwish



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Anal Sex, Angst, Band Break Up, Barebacking, Coming Out, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage, Minor Character Death, One Direction Break Up, POV Multiple, References to Illness, Wedding, side larry - Freeform, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricwish/pseuds/electricwish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Zayn remembered the last time he had seen them all – Liam had stormed out, Harry and Louis were furiously packing their bags in the same bedroom while somehow simultaneously being able to ignore each other, and Niall was sat on the floor in the hallway, staring into space. Harry left soon after that and Louis got the first flight home the next morning, while Niall and Zayn were left to explain everything to management.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nine years after the band split up, Niall Horan is getting married and wants his former bandmates at his side for the wedding, while none of the other men want anything to do with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Left Behind

-NIALL-

           Niall Horan bit his lip and pushed at the doorbell twice. He was anxious, nervous, and, frankly, even a little bit weirded out by what was ahead of him. He didn’t like awkward situations, never had, and his body always rejected them and turned him into a giggling idiot. Even at the age of 28 – though he hated to admit it that he was approaching his thirties – Niall still couldn’t handle being uncomfortable. He blamed that on having so much money from a young age; he could always afford to be elsewhere. But now? Here he was, walking head-first into the most awkward situation he could imagine.

           The door in front of him squeaked open and he looked on a face that he hasn’t seen in 9 whole years – not since everything in his life fell to pieces. Louis Tomlinson looked as if he hadn’t aged a day, though his hair was no longer styled and he wasn’t wearing any colours that could be categorised as “electric” anymore. Niall decided that maybe that was a wise move.

           Louis looked from Niall to his front door and back, frowning. “What is this, the door to the past?”

           Niall smiled at that. Simply the sound of his old friend’s voice was enough to set him at ease. And why shouldn’t it? They had travelled together, lived together, eaten together, and breathed the same air together for years until all that was torn away from them. From all of them. Niall shook his head to clear those thoughts from his head.

           “Hey buddy,” Niall said. “Hope this isn’t a bad time or anything, I can come back – or not, that’s alright too, like, if you want me to go.” Louis stared blankly at him for a moment, and it started to freak Niall out a little bit. “What is it? Do I have chocolate on my face again?” Niall asked, self-consciously rubbing his cheek.

           “No, no, I just...” Louis blinked. “Christ, I’d forgotten just how _Irish_ you sound. It’s so good to see you, Nialler!” A wide grin exploded across Louis’ face, and then he was grabbing Niall in a tight bear-hug, lifting him off the ground as the Irishman laughed, gripping onto Louis’ back tightly. For a moment it was as if nothing had changed – they were back on the tour bus, messing around, dragging each other down from bunk-beds, and drawing on Harry’s face with permanent markers. Those were the best days of their lives, and it was hard to believe they had ended so prematurely.

           Once Niall was back on solid ground, Louis was leading him into his house, showing him into the kitchen and cracking open two beers without even asking Niall if he wanted anything to drink. Niall smirked, taking a sip, before placing his beer on the table in front of him. Louis – typical Louis – had resorted to sitting on the kitchen counter, his feet dangling above the ground.

           “So, tell me. Nine years of nothing and then suddenly you’re in my house.” Louis shrugged. “What changed? Apart from your hair, obviously. None of us have spoken since... then. So, what’s going on?” Suddenly his eyes went wide with fear. “Oh shit, please tell me no one has died. Oh Christ.”

           “Whoa, no, no, calm it.” Niall assured him, self-consciously running a hand through his brown hair – he had stopped dying it six years earlier. “No one’s dead. I – well... This probably sounds so cheesy, but... I’m getting married.”

           Louis put down his beer and stared at him with bewilderment. “You’re getting married?”

           “Yeah.”

           “To a... to a person?”

           “Yes to a person, you dick!” Niall laughed. He missed this, he missed this so much that it hurt to be back, but maybe – just maybe – it could all be fixed. “Her name is Amy, she owns a bar, she’s perfect and, somehow, she’s agreed to marry me.” He beamed.

           Louis burst into applause. “Niall Horan has discovered the ability of attachment! It has indeed been a strange nine years!”

           “Hey, I could _do_ attachment back then too. I was attached enough to you guys, wasn’t I?”

           Louis nodded. “We all were.” They both fell silent then, and Niall knew that Louis, too, was thinking back on all the good times that the band had enjoyed together – they were a boyband that had conquered the world.

           Niall cleared his throat. “There’s more, though. I didn’t just come here to tell you I’m getting married.”

           Louis’ eyes were wide again. “You’re not dying are you?”

           “Christ Lou, what is your obsession with death today? I know you’re thirty now, but seriously –“

           Louis cut him off, offended. “We’re not discussing that, we’re never discussing that.”

           Niall smirked. “Anyway, Lou, I’m here ‘cause I wanted to ask if you’d, maybe, be one of my groomsmen? You don’t have to, but... I’d like it if you would.”

           Louis was off the kitchen counter in seconds and had pulled Niall from his seat, hugging him tightly again. Niall smiled into his shoulder, a muffled “is that a yes?” escaping his lips.

           Finally Niall was released from Louis’ deathgrip, and he could breathe properly again. He’d forgotten how important physical contact was when you were around Louis. Just about anything could result in a hug, a pat on the back, or even a bite on the shoulder. He was a strange creature, but he loved him anyway.

           “As if you even need to ask.” Louis said. “It’d be an honour.” Suddenly there was a sparkle in his eye, as if a thought had struck him. It was then that Niall realised that Louis knew his plan. “Hold on, loverboy, I think there’s more to this...”

           “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Niall said defiantly, trying to hide his grin.

           Louis wagged a finger in his direction. “Don’t lie to me, you loved-up leprechaun! Are you planning on asking the other lads to be the other groomsmen?”

           Niall didn’t reply, instead settling on a shrug.

           Louis gasped. “You are! You cheeky bastard. How exactly are you planning on pulling off this little miracle of yours? In case you haven’t noticed, none of us are on speaking terms. Well, except for you, because as usual you were nowhere near the drama.”

           A bitter laugh escaped Niall’s mouth. “Yeah, you guys always were overly fond of drama. But we’re all a little older and wiser now; maybe we can patch up some bruised egos.”

           Louis scoffed. “There was more than just bruised _egos_ in my case.”

           “True.” Niall admitted. He remembered – nine years ago –a stunned Louis walking out of his hotel room, mumbling ‘he hit me, he actually hit me’ and then a sudden ‘I’m going to fucking kill that curly haired prick!’ His eye had been a ripe shade of purple from where Harry had clocked him, and Niall had to jump on his back in order to keep him from going after Harry with a knife. It had been a difficult night.

           “I don’t know if I can do this, mate.” Louis said sadly. “It would just be too hard.”

           After taking a long draft of his beer, Niall remembered the advice that Amy had given him before leaving to try and convince Louis. She had come up with the questions he needed to ask in order to convince him to try at reconciliation. Amy was brilliant, a genius, beautiful and hilarious, but he would never let her know he thought all that.

           “Louis,” he started, “are you living here alone?”

           Louis nodded.

           “And I’m guessing that ever since Harry, you’ve never really been able to keep up a stable relationship with anyone?”

           Another nod, and Niall knew that he was in business.

           “You know why that is. What you two had was... Well, not to be all sentimental or anything, but it was _right_. You were meant for each other. He was able to calm you down, keep you sane, and even tolerate you – and, Louis, I dunno if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of insufferable.”

           “Guilty,” Louis smiled fondly.

           “So don’t you think that you should try and fix it? You owe him, and yourself, that much.” Niall finished.

           Louis sighed. “This girl you’re marrying – Amy? She must be really clever, ‘cause there’s no way you came up with all of that by yourself.”

           Niall laughed. “She may have helped me out here and there.”

           “Well don’t let that one get away.” Louis smiled softly. “Alright, I’ll be your stupid groomsman at your stupid wedding. But you’re paying for my tux.”

~*~

           Two hours later, Niall was having a very similar – practically identical – conversation with Harry Styles. It amazed Niall how similar he and Louis were, that they had the exact same fears and problems with his wedding plan. The only real difference was that Harry – his curly hair grown longer than he remembered – openly still cared for Louis, and asked Niall several questions wondering how Louis was, how he looked, was his house nice, was he single, and so on.

           “I’ll be your groomsman,” Harry said in his deep drawl, “but only if it’s not a problem for Louis. He should be there, and he should be happy.”

           It was only four hours later, while driving towards Wolverhampton, that Niall realised how hard the past nine years must have been for Harry. He was blatantly still head-over-heels for Louis. Niall couldn’t imagine being separated from Amy for that long. He’d lose his mind.

           Niall, following the directions from his Sat Nav, parked outside a massive factory in Wolverhampton. He took a breath before getting out of his car, knowing that this would be a much tougher job than convincing Louis and Harry. Liam Payne was not one to jump into a situation without giving it plenty of thought.

           It seemed strange to Niall that he would find Liam here. Before leaving Harry’s place, Niall had called ahead to Liam’s mother – like he had done with Harry and Louis’ mothers too, and he was delighted to discover that none of them had changed their phone numbers. Liam’s mother had told him that he was now working with his father in a factory where aeroplanes were built. Niall couldn’t get his head around it: Liam should be singing to packed stadiums on sell-out tours, not working in a factory.

           It had struck him how each of their lives had changed so drastically. Harry now worked for a music production company in London, while Louis had found himself working an office job, running an entertainments company. Niall, shortly after going out with Amy, had agreed to help his fiancée branch out into the restaurant business. Now, Niall was in charge of running the restaurant – _Horan’s_ – while Amy ran the bar, _The Red Fox_. Meanwhile, Liam helped build aeroplanes. The events of nine years previous had drastically changed them as people, but it seemed to have scared them all away from the stage and the spotlight.

           Well, all except Zayn. Zayn Malik had released an R’n’B album two years after _One Direction_ had broken up – with one tabloid spreading their front page with ‘No Direction’, and another with ‘Ex-Factor For 1D’. Niall had avoided them all, too distraught at the break-up to read what lies management had conjured up for the press. Zayn, however, had bounced back and set about writing new music almost immediately. At first Zayn’s debut album ‘Start Again’ had angered Niall beyond belief, but as he listened to it he started to enjoy it. Admittedly it was more ‘Blues’ than ‘Rhythm and Blues’, but, as Niall had joked, the guy always had a lot of angst.

           Niall made a mental note not to mention the name ‘Zayn Malik’ in the coming conversation with Liam. He entered the factory – ignoring the bizarre looks he was receiving from men in overalls – and made a beeline for the reception desk, asking to speak with Liam Payne. “He’ll want to see me,” he told the receptionist. “I’m –“

           “You’re Niall Horan,” the receptionist smiled. She ran a hand through her blonde hair, and gazed up at him. “You used be my favourite.”

           After an uncomfortable few minutes avoiding the receptionist’s flirtations and desperately waiting for her to relinquish Liam’s location, she finally told him to head for the canteen, as Liam was meant to be on break at this time. Niall headed there directly, but doubted that he’d find Liam lounging about – he never knew Liam to take breaks.

           He was proven wrong. Liam was alone in the small staff canteen, leaning back in his chair. He had headphones on, and was humming along to a tune that Niall didn’t recognise. In front of him was a half-eaten sandwich that to Niall looked heavenly, and if there wasn’t more important business to attend to, Niall would have opened with the line “are you going to finish that?”, but instead he forced himself to settle on tapping his former bandmate on the shoulder.

           Liam jumped slightly from the fright, not expecting anyone to distract him from his thoughts. He turned, looked Niall dead in the eyes, and blinked. And blinked again, and again, neither man saying anything. Finally Liam took his headphones off and in one swift movement, embraced Niall tightly, a soft “Niall goddamn Horan” escaping his lips.

           Niall spent the next half an hour filling Liam in on all of the details about his wedding. Liam immediately accepted to be a groomsman, and never considered changing his mind when Niall told him his plan to have the other boys as the other groomsmen– in true “Liam Payne” fashion he didn’t go back on his word. Niall noticed, however, how Liam tensed when he mentioned the “other lads”. There was no doubt in Niall’s mind for the reason why.

           “So, I’m guessing you’re probably wondering how the guys are doing, right?” Niall asked.

           Liam frowned. “What do you mean? I know Louis is enjoying office work and being the life of every work party, Harry is in his element working with new musicians and talent, and you – well, you’re running your own restaurant and getting married – you’ve really got it together.” He smiled.

           “Wait, how do you know all this?” Niall asked, confused. “Have you been in touch with everyone?”

           Shaking his head, Liam laughed. “Not exactly. We might have all grown apart, but our mothers still gossip on a regular basis. I get updates here and there, whenever something important happens.”

           “They _what_?!” Niall exclaimed. “Why haven’t I been told about this?”

           “Apparently they all promised to keep it hush-hush.” Liam shrugged, broad shoulders coming up to his ears. “Mine just can’t keep a secret – and I’m glad she keeps me in the loop. I worry about all of you occasionally... A bit... All the time.”

           Niall laughed at his friend’s embarrassment, silently delighted that there were still some semblances of the Liam Payne he had always known. There was just one piece of him missing, however, and Niall needed to know. “What about... Zayn? You said you know how me, Harry, and Louis are all doing, but you never mentioned Zayn.”

           Liam swallowed and looked away. “He’s probably off writing his second album or something. Mum doesn’t exactly get updates from the Malik family.”

           Not sure of what to say, Niall just put a comforting hand on Liam’s back. “If this is going to be too difficult for you, I’ll understand if you’d want to back out of the wedding.”

           “Don’t worry, mate.” Liam forced a smile. “All that stuff? It’s yesterday’s news.”

           “Okay,” Niall tried to sound like he was convinced, but wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he succeeded. “I’m off to see Zayn next. Tomorrow, hopefully. Your mum mentioned on the phone that I might be able to stay at yours tonight before heading off in the morning – I hope I wouldn’t be intruding?”

           Liam beamed. “Of course not! We can watch movies and eat popcorn all night, like old times. I’ve all the new _Marvel_ films!”

           “Some things never change,” Niall said, rolling his eyes.

~*~

           That night, after DVDs, a few beers, and far too much popcorn, Liam directed Niall to the guestroom. Liam’s flat – a spacious, modern apartment with pine wood floors and orange curtains – was tidy and organised, but _quiet_. That’s what struck Niall at first, how lonely a home it was. Liam didn’t deserve to be alone, and he shouldn’t be. Had things gone differently then maybe he wouldn’t be.

           “Liam?” Niall started, as his friend was heading out of the spare room and towards his own bedroom.

           “Yeah mate?”

           “No one will give me an honest answer, or a clear picture, so I have to ask you: what happened that night? In America. Y’know, nine years ago?”

           Liam sighed and came back into the guestroom. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to Niall. “You know what happened. Management told you.”

           “They told me why we were finished – why the band was dead. They mentioned that you guys all had your falling out, and some of the _why_ , but I need to hear it from you.” Niall shrugged. “I know you’ll give me an honest and full account of what happened that night. And I think you owe me; it was my life too, y’know.”

           There was silence for a moment, until Liam nodded. “You’re right.” He got up from the bed and made for the door. “I’m going to get us another beer – this story might take a while.”

-LIAM-

_Nine Years Ago..._

           The tour was going incredibly well, and it wasn’t just the boys that thought so – all of the evidence from the media and websites like Twitter and Tumblr pointed to one thing: they had really outdone themselves this time. Liam threw himself down onto their hotel suite’s couch, right between Niall and Louis, who were excitedly running through reviews of their tour online. “A huge improvement on their first tour,” Niall read out loud, “ _One Direction_ may become the biggest boyband in the world.”

           “Eh, rude!” Louis shouted, “I think they’ll find that we already are!”

           The three of them laughed and high-fived one another. “Where are the others gone?” Liam asked. Harry and Zayn had been missing since the end of their gig, and hadn’t come back yet.

           “No idea,” Louis said. “And Harry hasn’t replied to any of my messages.”

           “Wherever they are, I hope they bring back food.” Niall said, hope in his eyes. “Anyone for a spot of _Fifa?_ ”

           It was two hours later when Harry and Zayn arrived back. Niall and Liam were in the middle of an intense match between Ireland and Wolves when they heard the hotel suite’s door open and the two boys mumbling something to each other before two doors were slammed. The Playstation game was immediately paused, and Niall, Liam, and Louis exchanged puzzled looks.

           “Fight?” Niall asked.

           “Journalists?” Louis wondered.

           “Management.” Liam sighed. He knew that Zayn and Harry’s disappearance had something to do with management, as Zayn had become increasingly angered and frustrated by what all of the boys were being forced to do. For the past two weeks Zayn had told Liam all about his feelings toward management, the lies, and how it was getting increasingly unfair on all of them. “ _They leak all these fake stories about Harry slutting around, and it really bothers Louis. Not to mention how unfair it is on you, Liam, to have to see all the pictures of me and Perrie all over the internet. It’s not right!”_

           “We better go talk to them,” Louis said, nodding to Liam. Both of them got up from the couch and made their way to their respective bedrooms, while Niall spread himself across the couch and started up a new game.

           Liam slowly pushed the bedroom door open. The lights were off, and he could just make out Zayn’s silhouette sat at the edge of their bed, his head in his hands. “Zayn? Are… are you okay?”

           “I…” Zayn started, but just sighed.

           Liam stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He flicked on the light to see a defeated-looking Zayn, with what looked like bandages covering his upper arm. “Zayn? What happened?”

           “Liam, I can’t right now, I…” Zayn looked up from his hands, his eyes never meeting Liam’s, and Liam could see that he had been crying. The bandage, on closer inspection, looked a lot like the bandaging used to cover a new tattoo. Liam frowned, wondering how a new tattoo had upset his boyfriend.

           “Did you get inked?” Liam asked. “Did they do it wrong or something?”

           Zayn finally looked at Liam, his eyes watering. Without saying a word, he removed the bandage on his arm to reveal… Perrie. Zayn’s fake girlfriend was now painted to his arm, a permanent reminder of his duty and the lie.

           Liam’s heart nearly broke. He could feel it pounding, while his stomach wrenched and pulled, and his mind was filled with _no, no, no_. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t even look at his boyfriend without being constantly reminded that he would never fully be his – he could never be whole.

           “Management,” Zayn said, shaking his head. “They brought me and Harry in tonight and told us what was going to happen… Harry is going to, well, they’re going to leak another story or something. The usual. But me… Well.” He gestured to the girl on his arm.

           Liam stared at him. “Sorry, but what? The guys in suits tell you to go get a tattoo of _her_ on your arm and you just go ahead with it?”

           Zayn frowned. “Yeah. That’s how this works. They say jump, we jump.”

           “I… I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’d do this.”

           “I didn’t have a choice, Liam! They’re gonna pay us too though, I got them to bump up our cut of the profits for –”

           Liam was furious. “Money? This is about money? Zayn, for fuck sake, we don’t need any more money!”

           “What the hell was I supposed to do?” Zayn cried.

           “Say no! Refuse to do it! This will never end unless you stand up to them.” Liam caught another glimpse of the tattoo and flinched. “I can’t even look at you.”

           Zayn scoffed. “Oh, thanks for the fucking support.”

           “Support?” Liam shouted. “You want support for this? Do you want me to pimp you out, tattoo her name across your forehead, and go help you buy the goddamn engagement ring for her next?”

           “Don’t be so ridiculous.”

           “Ridiculous?” Liam could feel the tears coming, but he fought them back. “I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous – _you_. You get your fake girlfriend tattooed on your arm, act all upset about management, but refuse to stand up to them.” He shook his head. “And you still haven’t even told your own parents the truth. About us.”

           Zayn shot up, fists balled. “Don’t you dare bring them into this. Don’t you dare.”

           “Oh it’s all about them, isn’t it? Now that you have her on your fucking arm they’ll definitely believe that you’re in _love_ with a _girl_ and that you’re going to live the life they had planned for you.” Liam spat. “Like a good son.”

           “Liam, I’m warning you…”

           “All you ever want to do is impress them. Live your little lie. You’re pathetic.”

           “Shut up!” Zayn roared, and pushed Liam with all his strength. Liam fell back, knocking over a lamp that came crashing to the ground, before ending up on the floor beside the broken ceramic.

           Liam looked up at Zayn to see his expression change from anger, to concern. He held out a hand to help him up, but Liam shook his head. “I can’t.”

           “What? Of course you can, you’re not that hurt –”

           “No,” Liam said. “I can’t do _this_. I can’t do it anymore, Zayn.”

           Zayn blinked.

           “I’m sorry, Zayn. But…” Liam’s eyes caught on Zayn’s arm once more. “I just can’t. I… I quit.”

           His eyes filling up with tears, Zayn knelt down beside his best friend, bandmate, and boyfriend. “No. No. You can’t say that. No. I’ll… I’ll change, I’ll start fighting them, I’ll tell them –”

           “No, Zayn.” Liam said, refusing to cry. “You won’t.”

           There was banging on the door, and they could hear Niall’s muffled voice. “Are you guys alright? Did something break?”

           Zayn ignored him. “You can’t do this, Liam. It’s _us_ , you can’t… You can’t just finish it.”

           “Zayn, let me ask you something: can you promise me that you’ll be mine, completely mine, and refuse to keep up this charade with Perrie? Can you promise me that you’ll stand with me against the world, admit that we’re together, tell your parents, your family?” Liam took a deep breath. “Can you promise me that we’d get married some day and start our own family?”

           Zayn looked at him, and Liam saw the conflict in his eyes. He hesitated, swallowed.

           Liam smiled sadly. “I didn’t think so.”

           Getting to his feet, Liam walked to the door, turning to see a defeated Zayn sitting next to a shattered lamp. He opened the door and silently left the room.

Outside in the hall, Niall was frantically trying to calm Louis down, who was pacing while muttering “he fucking hit me, I’m going to fucking kill that curly haired prick!” When Harry came out of the bedroom, Louis went to hit him, before Niall jumped on him, pinning his arms to his back. “Let go of me, he fucking hit me!”

“Guys,” Liam said, his voice cracking. He had said it quietly, but somehow it got everyone’s attention.

Louis screwed up his face. “Liam? Are you alright? Are you sick? You look terrible!”

“No, I…” Liam shook his head. “I’m really sorry you guys. I don’t want to let you all down, but… I have to leave.” He shrugged. “I’m quitting the band.”

Silence. Liam looked from Harry, to Louis, to Niall, but only the Irish boy looked shocked. Harry looked… Relieved.

“Thank fuck you said it first,” Harry said. “I’m out too.”

“Suits me,” Louis bit back, storming off to his room.

In the end, Liam took out his phone and dialled his mum as he left the hotel suite, leaving a confused and devastated Niall in the hallway, desperate for an explanation.

~*~

            _Today_

           “… That was the last I saw of you. Nine years later you show up out of the blue at the factory and tell me you’re getting married.” Liam finished, taking a last sip of his beer.

           Niall nodded. “I kind of guessed, to be honest. I mean, it happens, right? When people are romantically involved in bands, this shit happens.”

           “Yeah.” Liam answered, “I guess so. But, being honest with you, Niall, I needed to leave the band for myself too. It had become too much. I missed being able to go for a walk by myself without being mobbed. I missed going shopping for myself. I missed…” He laughed. “I even missed school. Can you believe that?”

           “Sure. But over the past nine years, did you miss the studio? Did you miss touring, travelling to every corner of the planet, and being an inspiration for so many young kids?”

           Liam was quiet for a moment before his eyebrows raised and a smile spread across his lips. “I miss you four. My boys. I could hate you all one second and then love you the next. Insufferable, loveable, idiots.”

           Niall chuckled. “That should’ve been the name of our next album.”

           “Yes!” Liam laughed along with him. Niall’s attitude had always been infectious. He was a bundle of energy, and the band had often fed off of that energy when performing. Liam was delighted that Niall had found someone to love and to live with for the rest of his life. He deserved that happiness. But it also reminded him of lost opportunities. Of Zayn Malik.

           “Liam?” Niall asked, and Liam forced a smile onto his face.

           “So, you’re off to visit Zayn tomorrow, then?” Liam asked, and Niall nodded. “Make sure he joins the groom’s party, now that you’ve got the rest of us on board. Wouldn’t want him ruining your wedding.”

           Niall grinned. “If any of you four ruin the wedding, you’ll have Amy to answer to. And trust me, you won’t like that.”

~*~

           After leaving Niall to get some sleep and reminding him not to eat all of his Coco Pops in the morning, Liam returned to his own bedroom and buried himself underneath the covers in the dark. His mind was racing. Sure, he had thought of the boys a little bit every day, but now Niall was under the same roof as him and he was getting _married_. They were all going to be reunited, and Liam was unsure whether he was more excited or terrified by the idea.

           He must have tossed and turned in his too-big double bed for nearly an hour, his thoughts haunted by the idea of seeing Zayn’s face. He loved him – of course he still loved him – but Liam couldn’t look back on what had happened and see any alternative. Zayn was too afraid, too ashamed of who he really was. The boy from Bradford would never tell his parents the truth, and what kind of life could they have together? Liam refused to live a lie. Sure, he was a private person, and his sexuality was nobody’s business, but eventually the world would have found out. When-- If Liam and Zayn had gotten engaged and married, people would have noticed the rings. They would have noticed them moving in together, starting a family together. If.

           Rolling onto his side, Liam shut his eyes tight and tried to get some sleep. But his mind had other ideas, and kept bringing him back, all those years before, to when Liam hopped on a plane back to England and left _One Direction_ , his best friends, and his soul mate behind.

            _Nine Years Ago..._

           There had been no time to explain. Liam had boarded the first flight home that he could find, charging the trip – first class – to management as one final _fuck you_ for ruining his chance at a happy life. After a quick phone call to his mum – “ _Liam? Liam what is it? Slow down, honey, I can’t understand you… What? Right. Right, I’ll check the arrivals and I’ll be waiting. I love you too, sweetie”_ – Liam hadn’t spoken another word for nearly seven hours, ignoring the cameras, journalists, fans, and fawning airhostesses. He had shut his phone off, knowing (and selfishly hoping) that he was receiving countless messages from his bosses, the other boys, and Zayn.

           Had he been too harsh? Was he wrong? Could they have made it work? His mind flashed back to the face tattooed on Zayn’s arm and any feelings of regret were ripped away. No, he hadn’t been too harsh. ‘Liam and Zayn’ was a pipedream. It was time to grow up.

           True to her word – the woman had never let him down – Karen Payne was waiting in the airport’s arrivals lounge.

           “You had me worried sick,” she said, giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “C’mon, your dad is waiting in the car outside. Quick, before someone notices you…”

           Next thing he knew, Liam was telling his parents everything on the drive home. The tattoo, Zayn’s fears, his own fears, Harry and Louis fighting, Niall sitting helpless on the sidelines, and how he was quitting the band. It looked like they were all quitting. Liam wondered for a moment if they would simply replace him, a pang of jealousy hitting him, before shaking his head. No one in the band was replaceable, he knew. They were a family.

           “I always liked Zayn. So polite.” Karen muttered sadly in the passenger seat.

           “Are you sure about this, son?” His father, Geoff, asked, glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. “Quitting the band… Are you sure?”

           Liam nodded. “It really is for the best. I don’t think there’s any fixing what happened. All the lying… And the worst part is, I’m letting so many people down. I…” He went silent. A hand reached back from the front of the car and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

           “Whatever you want, Liam, we’ll support you.” Karen gave him a smile. “Your sisters will be so excited to see you!”

           Geoff snorted a laugh. “Not when they find out that you broke up _One Direction_ , they’ll be devastated!”

           Once he was home and alone in his bedroom, Liam finally switched back on his phone. Keying in his pin code, he waited to see if any of the boys had messaged him. Sure enough, the vibrating lasted for close to five minutes as text messages started to deliver.

           Niall: Wat the hell is going on? Where are you???

           Louis: Are u going home? Getting flight in morning if u want to share?

           Zayn: Liam please come back.

           Niall: Please tell me what happened!!!

           Harry: Can’t believe this is it.

           Niall: We can fix this. Can’t believe u made me triple text u like a wanker!!

           Zayn: Liam?

Unable to look at any more, Liam tossed the phone away from him and crawled into bed, finally allowing the tears to come before, exhausted, he passed out.

            _Today_

           Liam awoke with a jump. A dream? Had it all been a dream? Did Niall really show up at his house yesterday? He quickly got up and padded barefoot across the hall to the spare bedroom. The morning sun shone in the window onto the empty bed, which was already made, neat and tidy. Liam frowned and was about to turn and leave until he noticed a small piece of paper resting on the pillow. He picked it up and read:

“Sorry to sneak out early, long drive to assemble the last of the Avengers. Didn’t eat all your Coco Pops. See you at the stag party!”

           Liam smiled.

-ZAYN-

            _Vrrr Vrrr Vrrr… Vrr Vrr Vrr_

Zayn groaned and cracked an eyelid to see his phone vibrating across the bedside table, coming ever-so-close to dropping off the edge and onto the wooden floorboards before it came to a halt. He reached out and snatched it before another message came through and threatened to send it smashing to the floor – this was his second new phone this month, and he didn’t want to set a new personal record. (Four phones in one month back in 2011, all water-related accidents due to hotel swimming pools). A touch of the screen and the message popped open: ‘Offer for a DJ set in Birmingham. One night + Meet & Greet w/ fans. Interested?’

           His agent. Zayn sighed and sat up in his king-sized bed, nearly setting his iPad sliding onto the floor. “Ugh, I’m such a disaster,” he muttered to himself as he took in the sight of his bedroom – clothes scattered across the floor, empty glasses and bottles on every shelf and table in the room, and sheet music _everywhere_. He re-read the message on his phone and sent back an abrupt “No.”

           Zayn Malik felt defeated. Seven years ago, ‘Start Again’ was released, to favourable reviews. Six years ago, he performed a solo world tour (well, if you counted Europe and America as “the world”). Four years ago, people started asking questions – where’s the follow-up album? Are you working on new material? Have you given up? Tell us about _One Direction_. Do you miss the boys? _One Direction? One Direction? One Direction?_

           It dawned on him then that people didn’t care about his solo career. People missed the band. The world was filled with artists like the solo Zayn Malik – Chris Brown, Usher, Ne-Yo – and no boyband had successfully filled the void left by _One Direction_. Sure, they had tried, but every single one of them suffered the same fate: they were either compared to 1D, or they just weren’t all cute enough.

It dawned on him then that he wouldn’t be able to write a second album. He had tried. He had sat down for weeks at a time and tried to get a song together. But he had _lost it_. He didn’t have the _fire_ anymore. For ‘Start Again’, he had a lot of anger, fears, and hopes in the wake of the fallout. But now? Now he was performing DJ sets at festivals and nightclubs. Now he had lost his muse.

It dawned on him then that he missed the boys. Zayn remembered the last time he had seen them all – Liam had stormed out, Harry and Louis were furiously packing their bags in the same bedroom while somehow simultaneously being able to ignore each other, and Niall was sat on the floor in the hallway, staring into space. Harry left soon after that, telling Zayn on his way out that Louis had “found out that not all of the rumours in the papers were just rumours” and that “this is probably for the best.” He had sent Liam a text message – no reply. Louis got the first flight home the next morning, while Niall and Zayn were left to explain everything to management.

After that meeting, one of the men in suits – they were all the same, “like the Agents from _The Matrix_ ”, as Harry would say – took Zayn aside. “We want to offer you a contract. A solo project. You interested?” _Yes, yeah, wow, cool, that would be great, yeah._ They were still waiting for album number two.

Zayn pushed himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, pulling his thickest fleece over his head as he did. The penthouse apartment was his – all his. Even if he didn’t release another record, Zayn felt safe knowing that he had a home for himself, with no mortgage to pay off, a private elevator and stairwell specifically for his own use, and security in the lobby on the ground floor to alert him of any unwanted visitors. He had it good. But he wasn’t happy.

Zayn poured himself a bowl of Coco Pops – he had gotten hooked on the stuff ten years earlier – and was about to sit down when all of a sudden the direct phone line to lobby security started to ring. He sighed, wondering if it was another crazed fan trying to lie their way into the building, and picked up the phone. “Malik.”

“Apologies for the interruption, Mr. Malik,” came the voice of the lobby security guard, “but there is a Niall Horan here to see you. He says he’s unexpected, but that you’d like to –”

“Send him right up!” Zayn exclaimed.

Zayn wolfed down his cereal, all the while wondering why Niall Horan had shown up on his doorstep after all these years. Then his mind began to assume the worst. Maybe one of the boys was in trouble. Surely someone would have called him…? But no, Zayn knew, no one would have called him because they had all fallen out of touch. There was no more “the boys”, they were all grown up, gone their separate ways, living their own lives.

Still, the nagging doubt that something bad had happened ensured that Zayn was ready and waiting at the door when Niall arrived, only allowing the Irishman half a knock before swinging the door open and staring at him. “B-brown?” Zayn stuttered unconsciously, noticing that Niall’s trademark bleach-blonde hair was gone.

Niall made a face. “Hello to you too.”

“I-I mean, come in! Come on in, nice hair!” Zayn said, directing Niall to the living room.

“Jesus.” Niall whistled, taking it all in. “Nice place, man.”

“Oh, thanks, it’s nothing really…” Zayn said, forcing the modesty. He was really proud of his place, complete with some personal art that he had completed over the years. “Niall, I’ve gotta ask,” Zayn said as they sat down. “Is everyone alright?”

Niall smirked before bursting into a fit of giggles. Zayn smiled; he hadn’t heard that laugh in far too long. “Louis asked me if one of you were dead when I showed up at his door,” Niall said. “Don’t worry, everyone is grand.”

“You saw Louis?” Zayn narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Are you visiting all of us?”

“Whoa, steady on Sherlock,” Niall said. “Yes, I’ve been visiting all of you. Don’t be offended, but… You’re kinda last…”

“None taken,” Zayn said, a little offense taken.

“Well, I left you to the end because I thought you might be the toughest sell.” Niall shrugged. “I’m getting married, and I want all four of you to be my groomsmen. You were all my family, and we were like brothers – even if we sometimes fought like sisters – so I’d like you all to be standing next to me when I start a new chapter of my life.”

“You—” Zayn started, before he registered the entirety of what Niall had just said. Niall was getting married, and all of the boys would be together again for the first time in nearly ten years. Liam. Seeing Liam again for the first time in nearly ten years. Zayn wasn’t sure he could handle that. “You’re getting married?” he said at last, hoping that his voice sounded encouraging.

“Why d’you all sound so shocked every fecking time I say it?” Niall frowned, before a smile crept across his face. “To be honest, I can hardly believe it myself. I’m so lucky, man, honestly – she’s the best thing to happen to me in my whole life.”

Zayn smirked. “I thought we were the best thing to happen in your life?”

“A close second,” Niall said. “You’ll like her – Amy, I mean, she loves to read and she’s proper clever and good with, like, words and… stuff.”

A silence fell between them, and Zayn, for the first time since meeting Niall Horan, felt awkward and uncomfortable. There was so much to say, so much catching up and missed moments over the past nine years to tell him about, and yet Zayn was drawing a blank. Nothing as important or life-changing like getting engaged had happened to Zayn since the band split, and he just couldn’t compare to that. A pang of jealousy hit him hard, and Zayn wished he was that lucky, that he had met someone who meant that much, who could make him smile just by thinking about them, who meant the whole _world_ to him. He smiled, sadly. “I’m really happy for you, Niall.”

Niall nodded, but his eyes were on the wall ahead of him, staring at the framed, Platinum version of ‘Start Again’. Niall nodded to it. “That was good, man. Really good.”

“Thanks,” Zayn said quietly.

“No, really. It was great. Some of it was proper deep.” Niall breathed a laugh. “I didn’t get that some of the songs were about us, about the band, until Amy listened to it and explained it to me.”

Zayn nodded absent-mindedly. He never thought he’d see any of the boys every again, and he certainly didn’t think they’d listen to his album and understand that it was mostly about them, mostly about regret and missing his friends, and lost opportunities.

“You know, you never gave me an answer, when I said that I wanted you all to be my groomsmen.”

“Niall, I… I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if reuniting all of us is a good idea.”

Niall cocked his head. “Because of Liam?”

“Because of everything.” Zayn said, lowering his head and refusing to look at him.

“I heard the album, Zayn. There’s only five people in the world who would understand _some_ of those lyrics, and I didn’t need any help from Amy to understand them. You miss him. You regret what happened.”

“Niall—” Zayn started, before he was interrupted.

“Oh come on, Zayn, I was there too! I saw Liam walk out of the hotel and never come back. I saw you come out of that hotel room looking like you’d been torn in two.” Niall sat forward in his seat. “I was at Liam’s place last night. He told me everything.”

Zayn looked up, looked Niall dead in the eyes and, _fuck_ , Niall knew. “Is… Is he okay?”

Niall smiled softly and nodded. “He’s fine. I think he’s lonely, to be honest.” He frowned and looked around the room. “Come to think of it, all four of you seem a little lonely.”

“You’re just lucky, I guess,” Zayn said. He sighed, knew he’d probably regret this decision, but said it anyway. “I’ll do it. I’ll complete your limited edition groomsmen set.”

Niall beamed and jumped out of his seat to give Zayn a hug. “Thank you, mate. I hope you understand how important this is to me. Really. Thank you.”

Zayn nodded. “Don’t mention it. Listen, can I just… Did- When you were at Liam’s, did he say anything about me?”

Niall shrugged. “He mentioned something about not knowing anything about how you’re getting on. Did you know that his mum kept in touch with all of our parents? Well, except yours, I mean.” He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable. “Like, he knew all about the other lads and… Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s okay.” Zayn said blankly. “I… I don’t really blame anyone for what happened, y’know? I mean, we all had our falling out and no one kept in touch. Not with me, anyway. But I don’t hate or blame anyone for that. What happened, happened.”

Niall blinked. “Christ. You’ve grown up.”

Zayn laughed and tossed a cushion at Niall’s head, before another one was launched back at him. Zayn’s living room became a warzone, filled with giggles, shouts, and flying cotton, and all of a sudden it felt as though two friends had never been separated. For a brief moment, Zayn Malik was happy.

-NIALL-

Two days later, and Niall found himself in the upstairs office of _The Red Fox_ bar, recounting all of his travelling and persuading to his fiancée. Amy Wright nodded along enthusiastically, laughed at all the right moments, and pouted her criminally adorable pout when she heard of how terribly alone the four boys seemed. All in all, his wife-to-be was, as always, the perfect person to listen to a story. Niall smiled fondly. She was perfect in so many ways, and whenever there was something she couldn’t do, she was always somehow _perfectly_ bad at it. Not for the hundredth time, Niall wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky.

Five years earlier he had met her, and Niall always found it strange to think that there was a time when he hadn’t known her, when he didn’t have his partner in crime on his arm. Niall had been sat in a bar, his eyes fixed on the telly and Ford Super Sunday’s hyped-up match between a strong Manchester United side and an impressively resilient Hull, when a woman plonked herself onto the seat beside him.

She huffed. “I don’t suppose _you_ want to buy me a drink?”

“Sorry?” Niall had said, surprised by the sudden outburst.

“Well,” the stranger said, looking him over. “I was meant to be meeting a blind date here for a few drinks, maybe a walk in the park. But he didn’t bother to even show up. So, would you like to have a drink with me instead?”

Niall raised his eyebrows and started to think his luck was beginning to change. She was stunning. Long brown hair, mysterious brown eyes, and a cheeky grin on her face. “His loss,” Niall said. “What will it be?”

The woman _hmm_ ’d her approval. “Gin and tonic, please.” She reached out a hand. “I’m Amy. Amy Wright.”

Niall smiled and shook her arm gently, delicately, terrified that she’d break or he’d mess this up somehow. “I’m Niall. Niall Horan.”

They had spent the entire evening together, enjoying a few drinks followed by a stroll in the park and picking up a fish and chips from a van along the way. All the while, Amy had never given him any indication that she knew who he was or recognised him from the world’s most famous dead boyband. He only eventually found out that she knew _exactly_ who he was almost a year later, when she took him to meet her parents in her old family home, and Niall discovered her bedroom wall was plastered with _One Direction_ posters from teen magazines.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall had laughed when she tried to hide from her embarrassment.

“I thought it’d be awkward!” She had groaned.

“Why?”

“Because you weren’t my favourite.”

He very nearly called the whole thing off there and then.

Yet here they were, engaged and putting the finishing touches to their wedding plans, and standing above their jointly-owned bar while business meanwhile boomed at their jointly-owned restaurant.

“I have to say,” Amy gave her fiancé a mini applause, “I am _very_ impressed that you managed to pull this off. Good job guilt-tripping all of them.”

“That’s not exactly what I was trying to do…” Niall chuckled. “Does that always work?”

She winked. “Worked on you, didn’t it?” Reaching into her pocket, she took out her mobile phone and tossed it to Niall. “Time for phase two, then?”

Niall caught the phone one-handed and nodded.

“You’re sure about this?” Amy asked.

“Yeah. They all need to see each other, talk it out. Otherwise we’re headed for disaster.” Niall opened up a _New Message_ and began to type:

‘Hey, it’s me. Nialler came to see me the other day and I guess he saw you too. We should meet to talk. I’ve made us reservations on Friday at 8pm at the Plateau Restaurant in London. See you there.’

Niall carefully inputted four different contact numbers as the message recipients, and quickly pressed _Send_. He looked up at Amy with a mischievous grin.

“Phase Two is a-go.”

-LIAM-

_Ding!_

The elevator doors slid open and Liam took one last look at his reflection in the elevator’s wall-length mirror before exiting. Did he look tired? Was shaving his face clean of stubble a good move? Was his suit too formal? Or did it need the black tie that was hidden in his jacket pocket in case of an emergency? Liam shook his head clear of those thoughts. He was meeting an old friend, his appearance didn’t matter.

_But what if he doesn’t find me attractive anymore?_ Liam thought. Christ. He sounded like an insecure teenager all over again. Ever since he had turned thirteen Liam had been self-conscious of his appearance and had wondered, wished, and feared what others had thought of him and his looks. Then the band happened, and he had landed himself a relationship with the most gorgeous young man on the planet, and Liam had found himself questioning every single day what it was that Zayn Malik saw in him. The boy from Bradford had asked him countless times why he would suddenly become quiet and moody and distant, but Liam had never told him why. Until, one day, he did.

“You’re probably gonna think I’m an idiot for saying this. But I… I don’t get it. I don’t know why you’re with me? Like, you’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person on this planet – in the universe, probably – and-and-and I’m just… not.” Liam had finished abruptly, refusing to meet Zayn’s gaze.

“You’re right,” Zayn had said, “I do think you’re an idiot.”

What had followed was a painstaking exercise whereby Zayn forced Liam to stand in front of a mirror and list out what he thought were his best and worst features. “I don’t like my nose,” Liam would say, only to receive a kiss on the tip of his nose from the other boy, followed by a “but it’s perfect.”

They had been good together, Liam knew. In the face of fame and paparazzi and touring and screaming fans, they had remained a unit. A team. And yet, looking back, Liam couldn’t see any other way for it all to turn out other than how it did. They needed to split. “All good things come to an end,” Liam found himself saying out loud by accident.

“Excuse me?”

He looked up to see the confused face of a waitress standing at the entrance to the restaurant, a computer screen in front of her.

“Oh- um, sorry. I’m here for… I’m meeting my friend.” Liam stammered. “The table is probably booked under ‘Malik’.”

The waitress smiled and typed the name into the computer. A look crossed her face, one of confusion, before an almost mischievous smile crossed her face. “Of course,” she said, turning back to Liam. “If you’d like to follow me?”

When he received a text from an unknown number three days earlier, mentioning Niall and arranging a meet to break the ice, Liam had known immediately that it was from Zayn. For over an hour he had sat in silence, stuck in a staring contest with his phone, debating whether or not to agree to meet his former bandmate and lover. He contemplated rejecting the offer, but what had decided it for him ultimately was Niall; Liam refused to be the one to cause tension on the most important day of Niall’s life. And so, Liam had quickly sent back a message – ‘Good idea, see you then. Li x’ – before crawling into bed with the original _Avengers_ film to distract him from the man with dark hair, bright eyes, hard cheekbones, and a soft heart.

Liam was led through the restaurant towards a round table for four that was already occupied by one person. Only, that person wasn’t Zayn Malik.

It was Harry.

“What the…?” They both found themselves saying. The waitress tried to suppress a giggle while she left a menu on the table for Liam before she wandered away, leaving the two men staring at each other, dumbfounded. Liam slowly took the seat opposite Harry, suspicious. Harry’s hair was slightly shorter than it had been when they had last seen each other, but it still appeared to retain is trademark ‘springiness’. Liam was just happy to see that Harry was also wearing a suit and that he wasn’t overdressed.

“Excuse me, Liam,” Harry drawled, “I think you have the wrong table. Louis text me to meet me here.”

“Er… I don’t think so, Harold. Zayn text me to meet him here.”

They stared at each other for a moment, until Harry burst into a laugh and stood up to reach across the table to hug Liam, who quickly stood too to embrace his friend. “It’s so good to see you, mate,” Harry mumbled into Liam’s shoulder. Hugging his old friend felt like the most natural thing in the world, and not for the first time Liam regretted never gathering enough courage to contact Harry and the others. He would never understand how much of their lives he had missed out on.

They took their seats once more. “What a strange coincidence, man!” Harry chuckled, “you and Zayn choosing this place to meet up as well as Louis and me.” He poured Liam a glass of wine that he had already ordered.

“Yeah… I guess.” Liam said, unconvinced. “Unless Louis and Zayn coordinated this whole thing.” He looked around. “I mean, the table is set for four people.”

Harry nodded slowly before taking a sip of his wine. “I did think that was strange. But to be honest I thought that maybe Louis had just mucked up the booking.”

Liam nodded before taking a drink of wine himself, gulping it back. He was suddenly nervous. He had planned to meet Zayn, to talk directly to him, but now here was Harry, and apparently Louis was en route also. Every word that he had planned to say to the man he loved had disappeared from his mind, rendering all of his rehearsals in front of the bathroom mirror useless.

“Is this going to be weird for you?” Liam asked. “Meeting Lou, I mean.”

Harry smirked. “It would be weird if it wasn’t. If he shows up, of course. I tried to meet him on a few occasions since the band broke up, but he never wanted to.” He shrugged and looked down at his cutlery. “Not his fault.”

Liam didn’t know what to say – didn’t even think it was his business – so instead he settled on _hmm_ ing his understanding.

“Well, well, well.” Came a voice over Liam’s shoulder. “Isn’t this romantic?”

Harry’s eyes shot up from the table and Liam spun around to see Louis smiling back at them. He gave Liam a pat on the shoulder before sliding into the chair to Liam’s left.

“How are we, boys?” Louis asked the table, smiling. “Didn’t know you were joining us, Liam, but I suppose that should make this less awkward.”

“Or more awkward, now that you’ve acknowledged the awkwardness,” Harry mumbled.

“Uh…” Liam started, before busying himself with his wine. It went down easy, he decided, and Liam knew that after a couple more glasses he would definitely be drunk. _Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable_ , he thought to himself.

Louis raised his eyebrows and focused on Harry. “So… Why are we here then?”

Harry frowned. “You tell me, mate, you’re the one that asked me here.”

“No I didn’t,” Louis said, indignant. “You texted me and told me that Niall had come to see you about the whole wedding thing, and that you had made reservations here for eight o’clock to talk. Sorry I’m late, by the way, traffic was bit hectic and–”

“Hold on,” Harry interrupted. “Did you lose your mind over the course of the last nine years? That’s what _you_ texted _me_.”

Liam, hiding behind his wine glass, was just about to ask the waitress to move him to a different table, when someone lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned around and---

Liam felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of him. Wearing grey suit pants and a white shirt with a leather jacket over it, Zayn was as beautiful as Liam remembered him, if not more so now that he had matured a little. He wondered if it was the restaurant’s light, or did he notice a few flecks of grey in the dark hairs above Zayn’s ears. The term _silver fox_ came to mind, but Liam ignored those thoughts.

“Hi.” Zayn said, almost shyly, while Harry and Louis continued to argue across the table. They didn’t seem to notice the latest arrival.

“Hey,” Liam said back. “It’s… It’s good to see you. You look great.”

Zayn smiled. “Thank you. So do you.” That smile. Liam thought he would never see it again, and it was everything he remembered.

“Oh, hey Zayn.” Louis said, suddenly noticing him. Harry gave him a wave.

“Did you invite them?” Zayn asked Liam, and Liam shook his head.

The waitress appeared over Liam’s shoulder and handed Zayn an envelope. “I was told to give you this once all four of you had arrived. I’ll be back in a little bit to take your orders.” She smiled politely and moved on to another table to check in on the restaurant’s other customers.

Zayn frowned before sitting down to Liam’s right, and carefully opened the envelope. Liam, Harry, and Louis all looked on anxiously as Zayn took out a letter, cleared his throat, and started to read.

“Harry, Liam, Louis, and Zayn,” Zayn read. “Niall here. I’m assuming you have all figured this out by now, but it was me who sent you all text messages to arrange tonight’s ‘date’. I won’t be refereeing this meeting, but I hope that all of you can put the past behind you and make up politely. After all, you guys are no doubt surrounded by a full restaurant, and we wouldn’t want to make a scene now would we?! I love you all, and thank you so much for agreeing to be my groomsmen. Try not to say too many nice things about me. Yours adoringly, Niall.”

“That prick.” Louis said.

“Fucker.” Harry growled.

“Genius.” Zayn laughed, and was met with three pairs of angry eyes. “Well, it gets us all together and forces us to air all of our dirty laundry.”

“That’s rude,” Louis decided. “It’s just rude.”

“He’s worried we’re gonna all fight and ruin his wedding,” Liam reasoned. “So we may as well go along with it and talk it out.”

“Fair enough,” Harry droned, “but first we need to eat because I’m starved.”

The meal passed with surprising ease, and Liam was delighted to learn that the four of them could slip right back into conversation as if they hadn’t spent nearly a decade apart due to a bitter break-up. They chatted about the past nine years, mostly about Harry’s job discovering new British music talent and how Louis’s new job effectively makes him “an evil overlord of the biggest venues and festivals in the country, honestly!” For his part, Liam had tried to come up with an amusing anecdote about building aeroplanes but had failed, while it seemed that everyone was uncomfortable to ask Zayn about his solo career. Mostly, however, they recalled their favourite memories from being in the band, while the wine continued to flow.

It wasn’t until after dessert that conversation returned to the task at hand, when Harry sat up straight in his chair and addressed the table.

“I guess we should probably do what the Irishman wanted us to,” Harry announced, and turned to Louis. “To be honest though, this has nothing to do with Niall, and I’ve wanted to say this to you for a while. I mean, like, I asked to meet you on several occasions but you never wanted to–”

“Yeah, yeah, you can skip that part,” Louis interrupted, embarrassed.

“I’m just making sure that everyone,” Harry gestured to the table, “is aware that I’m not the bad guy here.”

“You cheated on me.”

Harry paused. “Okay, well, I’m not the worst guy in the world. I’m sorry about that. I really am, it was a stupid mistake.” He settled back into his seat before jerking forward once more. “Oh! And I’m sorry I punched you.”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, that was really uncalled for.”

“You called me names.”

“You _cheated_ on me.” Louis repeated with gritted teeth. “On numerous occasions.”

“I said I was sorry.” Harry said, sitting back. “Now, do you have anything you’d like to say?”

Liam exchanged a nervous glance with Zayn, who was biting his lip, his brow furrowed and clearly hating the topic of conversation. It was only then that Liam realised that Zayn was completely sober and had been sipping on water for the entire evening, while Liam himself had started to feel quite tipsy. His fingers felt tingly and the restaurant’s other customers looked a little hazy in the background. He hiccupped and attempted to focus on what Louis was saying.

“… didn’t appreciate being made look like a fool either, for the record. That really hurt me, Haz. You broke my heart.” Louis clenched his jaw, fighting back tears.

Harry wasn’t looking at him, couldn’t meet his eyes, but he leaned forward and reached a hand across the table. He took Louis’ hands in his and quietly said “I really am sorry. My heart broke that night too.”

Louis nodded and gripped Harry’s hand. “I know. Can we be mates again, then?”

They laughed and Harry nodded eagerly. “For Niall’s sake, of course.”

“Oh, of _course_ ,” Louis giggled, before both Harry and Louis seemed to suddenly remember that they weren’t the only two people at the table. Their attention turned and fixed on Liam and Zayn. “Well, shall we keep the theme of sharing going, then?” Louis said to the other two men with a smirk.

Louis could be such an arse, Liam remembered. “Mmm, I dunno,” Liam slurred, hiccupping again. “I s… I suppose? I mean I could say some more stuff if you guys like. Lotsa… stuff.” They were all staring at him when he finished talking, and Liam wondered if maybe he had chocolate on his face from his dessert.

“Liam…?” Harry started, before Louis interrupted him with a barked laugh.

“Shit, I totally forgot how much of a lightweight he is.” Louis said. “Look at him, he’s fucked!”

Liam’s mouth fell open (it had started to feel heavy anyway). “M’not!” He exclaimed. “You guys wanna talk, lezztalk!” He blinked. “What are we talkin’ about?”

“Oh boy.” Louis shook his head.

“Guys, I can’t have this conversation with a drunk Liam,” Zayn said.

Liam reached over and put a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “S’okay Zayn. You can tell me anything.” _Oh my god he’s so handsome I just want to kiss his face._

Zayn smiled. “Nah, it’s cool, Li. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow…” Liam muttered happily to himself, while the others called the waitress over to get the bill.

She smiled. “That’s all already taken care of gentlemen. Mr. Horan has paid for everything.”

The four men all smiled back at her. “Well, then,” Louis said, “in that case we’ll take one more bottle of wine, please.”

~*~

Outside of the restaurant an hour later, Harry was hailing a cab while Louis and Zayn supported a drunk Liam out the door. It had been decided that Louis would stay at Harry’s that night to save him an extra hour’s journey.

“I got a hotel room!” Liam piped up. “S’really nice and it has a minibar and soaps.”

Zayn shook his head and began to lead Liam away from the other two, waving their goodbyes. “Fuck that, Li, you’re way too wasted, you’d probably get lost or something. You can stay at mine.”

“Are we going to Bradford?” Liam asked, nearly tripping on a chip in the pavement.

“No, Liam.” Zayn said, his face set and serious. “I have an apartment here.”

“Oh.” Liam said, unable to take his eyes off of Zayn until they got to Zayn’s car – a BMW that looked like it needed a clean. Zayn leaned across Liam in the passenger’s seat and pulled on his safety belt for him. Liam smiled fondly at him, and when the car purred to life he began to search for any radio station that was playing a song that he liked, eventually giving up with a huff. Zayn chuckled and pressed a button on the steering wheel, his iPod jumping to life and _I’m giving you a nightcall to tell you how I feel_ filling the car.

“Still rockin’ the iPod Classic, eh?” Liam joked and was thrilled when Zayn laughed.

“I guess I’m just old school like that.” Zayn’s fingers tapped the steering wheel to the beat. “Like, it keeps breaking down on me every few months but it has over a hundred gigs of my life stored on it, y’know? So I just always get it repaired, replace a few parts here and there.” He shrugs. “I like retro stuff, all the new models aren’t built to last.”

Liam nodded his understanding as _they’re talkin’ about you boy, but you’re still the same_ buzzed in his ears. The buildings, cars, and people were all a blur outside Liam’s window as they drove by and he decided that wine was the devil.

“You doing okay there, buddy?” Zayn asked when he looked over at him.

Liam nodded slowly. “I think I drank too much wine.”

“I think you might be right. Don’t worry, my place is just around the corner.”

Ten minutes later, they entered Zayn’s penthouse apartment and Liam smacked Zayn on the shoulder. A little too hard, it turned out, as Zayn stumbled away from him.

“Check this place out!” Liam exclaimed. Compared to Liam’s apartment, Zayn’s was packed full of things. He was almost afraid to touch anything in case he broke anything, but then he spotted Zayn’s DVD collection and had to go through it to check if he had all of the latest superhero films.

“You can do all this tomorrow, Li,” Zayn said amusedly. “I think it’s time for bed now.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Liam said with a slight pout, and plonked himself down on the couch. Zayn was on his way out of the room before he stopped.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Zayn frowned.

Liam rolled his eyes at him. “I’m going to sleep here, duh? You said I could.”

Zayn shook his head. “You’re not sleeping on my couch, Liam. Come on, you can stay in my bed with me.” He paused. “Unless that’s a problem.”

Liam shook his head and followed Zayn to his bedroom. After brushing his teeth with a spare toothbrush that Zayn had offered him, Liam undressed down to his CK briefs and jumped into bed beside Zayn, who was switching off his phone. The second Liam’s head hit the pillow, he noticed that the pillow – and his entire surroundings – smelt of _Zayn_. It brought back a lot of memories, of moments spent together, dates, fights, performances, and nights. Liam let out an unconscious _hmm_ as he got comfortable in the dark.

“You okay?” He heard Zayn whisper. In the king-sized bed, the other man may as well have been on the other side of the room.

“Yeah,” Liam muttered into the pillow. “S’just been a long time since…” He trailed off, slipping into sleep. The last thing he remembered was Zayn’s voice asking “A long time since what?” and thinking to himself: _Since I felt like this, you beautiful fool_.

-ZAYN-

_No. No, this can’t be happening. This… This isn’t real. It can’t be._

_“Zayn? Come, let’s talk outside.”_

_What? Go outside? I can’t do that. I can’t leave this room, I can’t leave her. And neither should you._

_“Zayn. Let go of her hand. Let go, Zayn.”_

_No, you… You don’t understand._

_“Let go of her hand, Zayn.”_

_I can’t do that. I can’t._

_“Zayn, let her go–”_

_NO!_

Zayn awoke with a start, sitting up in bed and gasping for air. His hair was matted with sweat and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure where – or when – he was. The dream again. He sighed. It came and went every few days, sometimes weeks at a time, but if there was one thing that Zayn Malik could say with certainty it was that the dream would return to haunt him. It was getting worse too – one night when his sister Doniya had stayed over, she had woken him up in the middle of the night, concerned because he had been talking and yelling in his sleep.

He was about to lay back down when he noticed the body in the bed beside him. _Liam_. Zayn smiled at him, still in a deep sleep and snoring lightly, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his lips parted. The boy – no, man, Zayn corrected himself – had drank a lot of wine for his standards last night and, by the looks of things, he’d be asleep for a while longer yet. Liam must have scooted closer to him during his sleep, because last night Zayn would hardly have been able to touch him if he stretched out his arm in the king-size bed. Now, Liam was so close that they were practically sharing a pillow.

Zayn slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom to grab a shower. Once he was clean (and after ignoring his raging erection for the almost-naked man in the next room) Zayn pulled on some clothes, including his favourite Batman hoody, and headed out his front door. He had decided that he was going to make things right, starting with making a proper breakfast for Liam. Like he would in the old days.

Back then, Zayn would never have been able – or allowed – to go out alone and purchase breakfast supplies. He would have been mobbed by screaming fans and paparazzi. Now, however, the pavements outside his apartment block were clear, and Zayn could easily make his way to the corner shop nearby to pick up food. He remembered one time when he sneaked away with Niall to buy water-guns to assault the other boys with, only to be roared at by security on their return.

While cooking up breakfast, Zayn wondered if he and Liam would have survived a relationship if it had been under different circumstances. If they had been able to go out in the daytime, free of fans and fame, to simply stroll about a park, or explore a shopping centre. If they had been able to eat dinner together at a restaurant and go jogging together on Sunday mornings, would they still be together now?

Fame had certainly changed them, Zayn knew. They wanted for nothing, and could ensure that the same liberty was extended to their family and friends. That feeling led to arrogance and an inflated sense of self-worth, and Zayn was sure that that had something to do with their break-up. He remembered, nine years ago, thinking to himself when Liam had walked out on them, that Liam had _no right to ask me to come out to my parents_ and that _why doesn’t he stand up to management himself?_

“He just wants to go public and show the world that he loves you,” Niall had told him that fateful night nine years gone, when the two of them sat alone in the hallway of their hotel suite with Harry and Louis frantically packing their stuff in the next room.

“Yeah? And what about what I want, Niall?” Zayn had spat. “He never asks me what I want.”

“What _do_ you want?” Niall asked in a small voice.

Zayn couldn’t be annoyed at the other boy, whose life was falling down around him because of everyone else. The pang of guilt he felt in that moment, added to the feelings of anger and regret from his final argument with Liam, finally brought the tears down his face. Zayn’s shoulders shook with the sobs as he attempted to sniff back further tears. Niall wrapped an arm around his shoulder and brought Zayn’s head to his chest, Zayn’s tears staining his t-shirt.

“I don’t know,” Zayn croaked. “I- I just- I only ever wanted to make them proud.” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his arm. “And they’re so proud of me, Nialler, my parents. They’re like- they love me, yeah? They really do, and I love them back and- and-”

Niall gently rubbed Zayn’s head. “They love you because you’re their son, Zayn. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing.”

Zayn knew exactly what Niall was referring to. “Being gay isn’t really all that cool in my family, mate. Like… We’d just be watching telly, yeah? And there’d be a gay character on screen and- and my dad would just _tut_ , y’know? Like it’s a shame, a disgrace or summat.”

“You’re their son. They’d realise how wrong they are.”

Zayn shook his head. “You don’t understand. My parents aren’t… They’re not like Liam’s mum and dad.” The image of Liam with his parents back in England that his mind had conjured up nearly brought on more tears as Zayn realised that Liam’s parents would hate him for this. They would blame Zayn and think he was a coward, just like Liam did.

“Maybe not,” Niall reasoned, “but I think if you just told them, then you’d be pleasantly surprised.”

While he put a breakfast of Coco Pops, pancakes, toast, tea, and a vitamin drink onto a tray for Liam, Zayn wished he had just done it. But without Liam in his life he had no one to guide him, to support him and be with him when he told them in case he needed someone to help him gather the right words to say. Liam had always been his inspiration and his teacher, and when he walked out of his life Zayn lost the need to tell his parents anything.

Zayn toed open his bedroom door and sat down beside a still-sleeping Liam with the breakfast tray in his lap, the vitamin drink fizzling away. He gently shook the sleeping body and watched as tired eyes fluttered open. Liam seemed confused to see Zayn at first, before recognition and understanding registered in his eyes as he recalled the previous evening.

“Hey,” Liam croaked, sitting up.

“Mornin’, sleepy head.” Zayn gave him a smile and placed the breakfast tray on Liam’s lap. “I made us some breakfast, if you’re up to it.”

Liam looked pleasantly surprised. “Definitely!” Looking down, he took it all in and grinned at Zayn. “Coco Pops. You remembered.”

Zayn felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. “I have them every morning,” he confessed.

“Me too!” Liam exclaimed, laughing. “They’re the best. I always told you they were.”

_They always remind me of you,_ Zayn thought to himself as he watched Liam wolf down his breakfast, alternating between a spoonful of cereal and a mouthful of pancakes before washing it down with a vitamin drink.

“These pancakes are insane,” Liam murmured, mouth full. “And the vitamin drink? Brilliant call. Hangover, be gone!” When all that was left was crumbs and a little bit of milk at the end of the bowl, Zayn took the tray and placed it at the end of his bed.

“This is… strange, right?” Zayn asked, fidgeting with the duvet beneath him. “Being back together. Wait, I- I mean, in the same room together. Talking.”

Liam nodded sharply. “Definitely strange.”

“Like… I haven’t seen you in nine years and now you’re in my bed.” Zayn gestured.

Liam self-consciously pulled the covers up to his neck, suddenly aware that he was almost completely naked. “Shit.” He said. “All my clothes are back at the hotel.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zayn waved him off, “I’ll drop you by to pick them up later. Listen though, we… we, uh, never really got around to talking about… stuff… last night. Like Niall wanted us to.”

“Oh.” Liam said. “Sorry. I wasn’t really… able for it.”

“Yeah…” Zayn said. “Look, I just want us to be okay again. Niall is getting married, he wants us all to be there and we should respect that. We should all get on and be civil at the very least.”

Liam blinked at him. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Sure.”

“Is that alright with you? I know a lot of things were said back then and I think we’re both to blame for that –”

“Both of us?” Liam frowned.

“Yes, Liam.” Zayn’s eyes narrowed. “We’re both responsible for what happened.”

“Oh, okay,” Liam scoffed, “because I was under the impression that you came home with a tattoo of your fake girlfriend on your arm and then told me that we’d never be able to be a real couple because you refused to tell your parents.” He got out of Zayn’s bed and began searching for his shirt. “But yeah, I’m sure it’s _both_ of our faults.”

Zayn stood too, crossing his arms. “That’s unfair, Li. I thought that maybe after nine years you might have seen it all from my perspective.”

Liam shrugged on his shirt and began to button it up. “Your perspective was to go on with a charade and keep me your dirty little secret. Trust me, I understand.”

Zayn crossed the room and pushed Liam against the wall. They were having the exact same fight, he knew. It was nine years later, and nothing had changed. Hindsight had taught him exactly what was going to happen next: Liam would walk out the door and they would be worse off than ever before. And so, Zayn did the only thing he could to stop that from happened.

He kissed Liam. Zayn lunged forward, capturing his lips in his own and kissed him deeply, hungrily. He heard a soft moan but he wasn’t sure if it came from his own throat or Liam’s, but he paid it no attention, only proceeded to kiss the other man more. Liam’s five o’clock-shadow scratched his chin and his hands caressed Zayn’s hair, before they broke apart, gasping for air.

“I love you, you bastard,” Zayn breathed, his gaze fixed on Liam. “Don’t you dare walk out that door on me again.”

Liam swallowed. “I… I won’t. Zayn, I- I don’t know if –”

Zayn swallowed his next words, kissing him again and pinning Liam to the wall with one hand while the other gripped his muscled back. Liam bit Zayn’s lip, a muffled “fuck” escaping before it’s devoured by Zayn’s mouth. Zayn’s hand trailed down Liam’s back before it found the waistband of his underwear, and Zayn could already feel how hard he was, pressing against Zayn’s thigh, could practically feel the _heat_ burn into him.

At last he released Liam and allowed him to breathe, and immediately set to work on kissing every inch of skin he could reach, every piece of Liam that had been hidden from him for the past nine years. Zayn practically bit at Liam’s birthmark on his neck before going lower, kissing his collarbone, lower to tease his nipples, and lower, past the toned muscles of his stomach to the trail of hair leading underneath the black briefs. Liam was rock hard, his cock straining against the material, and Zayn raised a finger to trace the outline while Liam sighed above him, something that sounded awfully like “Zayn, please.”

Zayn yanked down the offending briefs and smirked as Liam’s cock bounced slightly, brushing against his cheek and leaving it wet with precome. Zayn gave Liam’s length a lick from base to tip, recalling all of the ways that he used be able to drive Liam wild with just his mouth. Liam practically growled when Zayn finally took his cock into his mouth, slowly going deeper and deeper, inch by inch, until his nose pressed against Liam’s skin. Zayn backed up, dragging his tongue along the underside of Liam’s dick as he went and removed his mouth with a wet _pop_ , looking up at Liam with tear-stained eyes.

“Christ, Zayn,” Liam gasped. “Missed this. So good.”

_He looks so beautiful,_ Zayn thought to himself as his tongue flicked against the head of Liam’s cock, catching more precome. _All this time, and he still looks so gorgeous_. Liam looked more mature now, more like a _man_ , and his body had never been better. He worked in a factory, Zayn remembered, and just the thought of Liam doing so much heavy lifting – with his muscles straining and stretching – had Zayn more aroused than before. With a quick flick of his wrist Zayn was able to free his own cock from his pants, and slowly stroked himself off with the taste of Liam on his tongue.

Zayn’s tongue licked along a thick vein on Liam’s cock and Liam grabbed the back of his head, gently forcing himself back into Zayn’s mouth. He moaned around Liam, feeling his throat stretch, and his eyes flicked upwards to watch Liam’s expression as he bucked into his mouth. Liam looked like he was in heaven, like he hadn’t felt like this in a long time, and Zayn hoped that that was true, a pang of jealousy burning in his chest. No other man deserved Liam, and, using only his mouth, Zayn decided to show Liam exactly why.

Zayn swallowed around the head of Liam’s cock and wrapped a hand around the base of his dick, sucking him off in earnest while Liam groaned above him, muttering “your mouth is incredible, you’re amazing, oh my god Zayn.” Zayn’s head bobbed along Liam’s cock in time with his own strokes, and when Liam looked down all he could see was Zayn’s dark eyes staring back at him while he jerked himself off. That sight alone was enough to send Liam over the edge and he came with a surprised cry, thrusting up and shooting right into Zayn’s grinning mouth.

As Liam’s come flooded his mouth, Zayn couldn’t hold back any longer, his come shooting against the wall and leaking onto the floor and his moan muffled by Liam’s dick in his mouth. He sat back on his heels and Liam leant down, kissing him softly and moaning a _perfect_ against his lips, before pulling his briefs back up and covering himself.

“I haven’t felt that good in–” Liam started, but quickly stopped, blushing.

Zayn furrowed his brow. “What? Go on, you can tell me.”

“It’s… nothing.” Liam shook his head and sat back onto the bed.

“Li,” Zayn said, following him over and sitting down beside him. “I just sucked you off. You’ve gotta tell me.” He smiled and nudged Liam playfully.

Liam sighed. “I… Haven’t been with someone else since…” He trailed off.

That pang of jealousy again. “Since when?” Zayn asked, almost fearing the answer. But instead of responding Liam only looked at him and blushed even harder. Slowly, Zayn came to understand what he meant.

“Since… me?” Zayn asked, hardly able to comprehend that. Liam was, in his eyes, the most amazing and beautiful person in the world, with the most wonderful laugh, the brightest smile, and the most addictive personality he had ever met. How could someone else not have snatched him up in the last nine years?

“Yeah,” Liam said shyly. “It was… Look, after we split up I didn’t want anything to do with anyone else, ever again. I couldn’t deal with that hurt. So I swore off everyone, made a commitment to myself and my right hand and y’know what? I haven’t been hurt by anyone in a long time.”

“Li, I don’t know what to say… That’s impressive.”

“Oh, ‘cause I’m sure you were having sex every other week?” Liam said bitterly.

Zayn shook his head. “No, actually. I’ve only had a handful of… partners since we broke up. All one-off things. None of them meant anything to me, I just needed a release.”

Liam looked at him and nodded. “Oh. I’m sorry for assuming. I just thought that you being, well, so famous and all… I thought people would be lining up for you.”

Zayn shrugged. “None of them were you.”

Smiling, Liam leaned in and pressed a soft, caring kiss to Zayn’s lips. “We still need to talk about this, you know. About… Us.”

“Yeah,” Zayn said. “But right now I kind of just want to watch all of the Marvel films we missed out on together and hear all of your opinions on them.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “You get the popcorn, I’ll fire up the Blu-ray player.”

-LIAM-

_Shock Split for 1D!_

_No Solo Careers for 1D Boys: more, page 5!_

_Liam Payne quits Twitter, tells fans “Thank you for believing in us.”_

_Zayn Malik splits with Perrie! All the gossip on page 12!_

_Zayn Malik signs solo contract, writing new album._

_“Start Again” shoots into the charts! Malik proves that there’s life after 1D! More inside!_

Back at home, Liam finally succumbed to catching up on all of the news he had ignored for the previous nine years. As he expected, much of it was either false or based on speculation – Liam knew for a fact that he, Harry, and Zayn had all been offered solo projects, and that Zayn didn’t in fact split with Perrie over “cheating allegations”. No, the tabloids had continued to spread lies and false accusations about them even after the band had finished.

Liam was mostly interested in following any news about Zayn that he had been consciously avoiding for nearly a decade. He had been unable to avoid some, of course, and had spotted pictures of Zayn online with girls under his arm with headlines such as “Zayn’s new flame” causing Liam to slam his laptop shut and swear off the internet for a week.

Much of the news focused on Zayn’s solo album, with ratings varying from five starts to two, with most being very favourable. Liam had sworn that he would never buy a copy, and that he would never listen to it, but when he heard BBC Radio One discussing how Zayn was in with a shot of being the number one album of the week, he instantly purchased a copy to support him. He had succeeded in his second promise however – he hadn’t listened to it.

Until now.

Liam ensured that his phone was muted, the windows were closed, and that there would be no interruptions for the next hour, as he sat down on his couch and pressed play on the first track of Zayn’s album. Liam could instantly see why reviewers had compared the solo project to that of artists like Frank Ocean and Ne-Yo, as Zayn had fused RnB with pop, a steady beat popping underneath his silky voice as he showed off his range. It was totally unlike anything that they would have released as a band, something for which the album had been applauded.

But what struck Liam the most was the lyrics. The opening track, _The Dawn,_ seemed to both praise and mourn the morning sunrise, Zayn singing that _this is the start, baby, but is it also the end? I don’t think we can still be friends_ and ending with _there will always be more of them, but there’s only one of you,_ Zayn’s voice thick with emotion. The track _Thinking Of You_ was almost like a hymn, a dedication to a lover, with Zayn’s voice melting throughout the song with _You’re in my blood, babe, you’re in my soul, oh without you life takes its toll._ The album came to an end after twelve tracks with Zayn’s voice seeming to be ripped from his very soul, a song that began soft and delicate before growing more and more intense, finally ending with a high pitched cry and a defeated _I’ve lost my fight, I need you here, you were my light, my atmosphere._

Liam was hardly surprised by the depth of the lyrics or their poetic merit – Zayn had always been the most creative in the band. Liam recalled catching Zayn doodling on the stage on numerous occasions during rehearsals, and he would often be seen scribbling intensely on a notepad, coming up with lyrics for new songs. Examples of Zayn’s creativity could be seen everywhere around him, and perhaps the most significant of those was his own body, which he decorated with tattoos, many of which were of his own design. Liam couldn’t stop the feeling of bitterness that swelled in his stomach at the thought that Zayn may have designed the infamous Perrie tattoo himself.

He checked his watch and ensured that he had enough time to give the album a second listen before he had to video-call Niall on Skype. On his second run through the album Liam found himself humming and even singing along. It really was a fantastic album, he decided. But why was there no follow-up? Sales had been very strong, and concert sales even better. And yet Liam could find no information online alluding to a second solo outing from his friend and former bandmate. Had he given up?

When he finally shut the album off and rang Niall on Skype, Liam was burning with questions to ask Zayn. He put them to the back of his mind as Niall’s face appeared on his screen, his dark hair still a surprise to see.

“Hello there, trusty groomsman!” Niall chirped, smiling widely.

“Hey schemer,” Liam grinned. “Can’t believe you pulled that little stunt off, getting us all together at the restaurant.”

Niall looked impressed with himself. “I’ve got many tricks up my sleeve. You guys are all still alive, then?”

“Just about.” Liam laughed. “I thought Louis was going to murder Harry for a moment, but they’re friends again now. Thick as thieves, actually, ‘cause apparently they’ve spent the last couple of days joined at the hip. So everything is back to normal.”

Niall nodded. “And you and Zayn?”

Liam hesitated. “We… We’re good. We have a few things still to talk about, but I think we’re going to be fine. If your wedding is a disaster, it won’t be because of us.”

“Encouraging, thanks.” Niall muttered. In the background Liam spotted a beautiful woman with long brown hair enter the room and tilt her head a little bit to see the screen in front of Niall.

“Oh my god it’s Liam,” the woman said, excitement in her voice. She rushed forward and sat beside Niall, who rolled his eyes. “Hi!” the woman squeaked.

Niall cleared his throat. “Liam, this is my fiancée Amy. Amy, this is Liam, please be cool.”

“Hi, Liam,” Amy said, her voice deepening in an obviously forced attempt to be less excited.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Amy,” Liam said with a smile and he was surprised to see the woman blush. Her eyes widened.

Niall sighed. “In case you’re wondering, Amy had a favourite member in the band and… it wasn’t me.”

Liam looked from a frowning Niall to a nodding Amy and decided that there was nothing he could say that would make the situation any less awkward. “That’s… Nice. Thank you, Amy.”

“Niall has told me all about what happened when you guys broke up,” Amy said, speaking rapidly. “I couldn’t believe it when he said that it was cause of a big fight between you and Zayn and then another fight between Harry and Louis. I mean I didn’t think you guys were gay and in relationships and it just seemed so strange that nobody knew that. Not that I have a problem with it or anything, I think it’s great. To be honest I wish everyone had just come out with it all those years ago,” she continued to ramble on until Niall covered her mouth.

“Amy,” Niall said, “give it a rest.”

Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Thanks for your support, Amy. Are you excited for the wedding?”

“I _was_ ,” Amy said, her brow furrowed. “But in the past week the florist has died, my wedding-cake plans have been described as ‘impossible’, and Niall still hasn’t bought new socks for the big day.”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it…” Niall said, before gesturing to Liam behind her back that there was no way he was going to buy new socks before the wedding.

“Wow,” Liam said, “it sounds kind of stressful.”

“A bit. But at least he’s finally sorted his groomsmen. Without any bit of help from anyone, of course,” Amy winked.

Liam instantly liked her. “Not the brightest bulb in the box, is our Niall.”

“I’m sitting _right here_ you know.” Niall interjected.

“In his defence, I think we’ve all been a little stupid for the past few years,” Liam said. “Did you… This might be a stupid question, but did you listen to Zayn’s solo album?”

“Yes,” they both answered immediately.

“Have you?” Niall asked.

Liam shrugged. “Yeah. Well, I mean, I just listened to it like… an hour ago.”

Amy snorted a laugh. “Wow, a little behind on the latest music, are we?”

“To be honest I was avoiding listening to it because I thought it would be too hurtful to hear him singing alone.” Liam hesitated. “And… And also because I hated him for a while. We didn’t exactly have the healthiest break-up as you both know, so I thought that hearing the album would have just hurt me further, or bring back old feelings. I dunno,” Liam said, shaking his head.

“Well of course it was going to do that,” Amy said, sitting forward in her chair. Liam watched the pixels on his screen become blurred as his internet connection glitched for a moment before settling once more. “After all, practically the entire album is about you.”

Liam blinked. “What?”

Niall clapped his hand down on his own knee. “Ha!” He exclaimed. “You see, Aims? I’m not the only one who didn’t understand it! Told you so!” His smile faded when he turned back to see Liam’s lost, puzzled expression.

“What do you mean the entire album is about me?” Liam asked Amy, ignoring Niall’s outburst. “He never says anything about me.”

“Well not directly, of course,” Amy explained. “And there are other themes throughout the album too, such as him starting a new journey, feeling isolated and alone, and honesty, but it’s mostly about you.”

“I- I- what?” Liam stammered.

“Yeah, it’s all about regretting the break-up, missing you, wanting you back…” She frowned. “I can’t believe you didn’t pick up on all of this. Who did you think he was referring to when he was calling someone his ‘atmosphere’ and singing _you’re in my soul_? It’s you.”

“I thought… I just thought he was singing what he knew the girls would want to hear.”

“Oh, Liam.” Amy smiled fondly. “Just because the lyrics are what people want to hear, that doesn’t mean that they don’t have a deeper message. He loved you. Still does, probably.”

When Liam went quiet for over a minute, lost in his thoughts, Niall waved a hand at the screen. “Hello? Mate, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” Liam said, distant.

“Good. Before you get all emotional and stuff, can we talk about the stag party? Have you guys organised it yet?” Niall looked half-excited, half-terrified to hear what had been organised for his bachelor party.

“Oh, yeah,” Liam said with a grin, snapping out of his Zayn-induced haze. “A proper day out with the boys. You’re gonna love it.”

~*~

One month before Niall’s wedding, Liam found himself on top of a snow-capped mountain _somewhere_ in Switzerland surrounded by the husband-to-be and the other groomsmen. With skis strapped to their feet and wrapped up from head-to-toe with jackets, scarves, gloves, hats, and goggles, it was difficult to tell who was who. To his left, covered by a dark blue jacket and a furry hood, Zayn had his hands tucked in under his arms and was taking in the incredible view, his lips parted and teeth chattering as a light snow fell all around them.

Louis, wearing an orange ski jacket, pulled his scarf away from his mouth to announce a wager. “How about we race to the bottom of the mountain? Last one there has to go to the wedding in an electric pink tuxedo.”

“Does that include me?” Niall asked, his voice muffled.

“No, your wife would kill me.” Louis decided after a moment of consideration.

Liam glanced down the slope of the mountain and laughed. “Yesterday we were all doing ‘Beginners Classes’ in skiing and now we’re gonna race to the bottom of a mountain?”

“Yeah, how rock-star are we?” Louis said with a wink.

Harry, wearing green, plodded over the snow towards them and took a flask out from somewhere inside his jacket. “In that case, this might help settle the nerves.” He took a swig from the flask and handed it to Liam, who took a sniff and instantly regretted it.

“What is this stuff? Bleach?” Liam asked, coughing. He passed it back to Harry without drinking any.

When Zayn and Niall both refused to drink the mysterious liquid also, Louis snatched the bottle and knocked it back his throat. “Sissys,” Louis said afterwards. “It’s only vodka. Right, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t speak Swiss.”

“You mean German?” Zayn laughed. “Swiss isn’t a language.”

“Whatever,” Louis interjected, feeling restless. “Are we going to race to the bottom or not?!”

“I would – you guys _know_ I would – but I’ve got like a month until I’m getting married,” Niall said, “and I don’t think Amy would appreciate me arriving at the ceremony with a broken leg. Or worse.”

Zayn shook his head. “I couldn’t even manage the ‘left-right-left-right’ thing correctly yesterday, so there’s no way in hell I’m skiing down there.”

Liam smiled fondly, remembering how adorable Zayn had been the day before. The instructor – an intimidatingly large Swiss woman – had spent almost an hour of their three hour beginner’s session trying to teach Zayn how to walk correctly while wearing skis, before they both gave up, equally frustrated at one another. After proceeding to fall off three training slopes, Zayn had finally kicked off his skis and disappeared back inside the ski lodge, before reappearing ten minutes later with a hot chocolate in his gloved hands to sit down and shout encouragement and support to the other lads as they continued to practice.

A lot of that support, Liam had noticed, was directed at him. It had been difficult for Liam to keep his focus while Zayn yelled a happy “great job Lee-yum!” every few minutes, but Liam loved it. His heart melted every time he heard that voice speak to him, and he found himself yearning to ski better in order to impress Zayn and keep those encouraging words coming. It had worked, and in the end the others were extremely jealous of Liam’s ability to complete a mini slalom course without falling over. Zayn, on the other hand, seemed to be proud of him, and had even given Liam a kiss on the cheek.

That was the first kiss Zayn had given him since the morning after their restaurant reunion. They had met on a number of occasions since then, mostly to organise the bachelor party ski-trip along with Harry and Louis, but on one occasion they had grabbed dinner together in a restaurant outside Wolverhampton. Liam had been incredibly nervous before that dinner, a ‘first-date’ nervousness deep in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. His nervousness had vanished the moment he arrived at the restaurant to see Zayn already waiting for him, smiling warmly in his seat. After dinner, Liam had treated his date to ice-cream, before they had finally said their goodbyes and Zayn drove back towards London, despite Liam’s offers for him to stay the night in his spare bedroom.

They still hadn’t discussed _them_ or the fight nine years previous. Liam knew that neither of them particularly wanted to bring that up – especially when it could effectively ruin the mood, ruin a great dinner together or Niall’s bachelor party – but he was beginning to get tired of ignoring the elephant in the room. He still wasn’t sure how he felt himself, whether he wanted to get back together with Zayn and give it all another try, but he also didn’t know how Zayn felt. The other man clearly didn’t see himself as being in the wrong nine years earlier and he was too stubborn to change his position on that. And, yeah, maybe Liam was also stubborn about that and ---

_Oh. Fuck. I’m at fault too._

It hit Liam like a slap to the face, and he suddenly realised that Zayn had been right about what he had said back in the penthouse the morning after their reunion. “We’re both responsible for what happened” Zayn had said, and Liam only now realised that that was true. Sure, Zayn had been keeping their relationship a secret and was deepening the lie, but Liam himself had been trying to force Zayn to come clean, to come out to his parents, and to admit the truth to the world. _That wasn’t okay_ , Liam thought to himself, and he looked to his left to see Zayn shake snowflakes off of his gloves. Liam wanted to grab him, kiss him deeply and tell him that he _understood_ now, but Louis was nattering at him to get into position for a race.

Over Louis’ shoulder, Liam saw Harry grin, wink, and nod at him without Louis noticing, and Liam grinned back, understanding the covert language that they had used all too often back when they were still a band. Liam took up his position at the slope’s edge, and waited for Louis to count down “Three, two, one, go!” before he made a jerking motion forward but didn’t budge from his spot. Harry did the same, and they both sat back on the snow, laughing hysterically as Louis slid down the mountain alone, shouting curses and abuse back at them.

“Do you guys remember how much you used to fool me like that before?” Niall asked with a smile. “It feels good to be on the other end for a change.”

~*~

Later that night in the ski lodge’s bar, a very drunk Niall Horan was professing his love for his groomsmen. The others, well and truly exhausted from the last few days in Switzerland, were sober but in great spirits, and were thoroughly enjoying Niall’s affectionate chatter. Liam had just finished a cup of tea while, beside him, Zayn was happily sipping away at his hot chocolate with marshmallows. Harry and Louis were wrapped up together on the other side of the table, seemingly a couple once again, as if the fight and break-up from nine years ago had never happened. Liam wished he could copy his two friends and put it all behind him.

Liam watched as the Irishman hopped to his feet and lifted a stein full of beer into the air. “You lot,” Niall began, “have surpassed all expectations. No, really. Look at you guys.” Niall paused a moment, apparently to allow them the time to look at each other. “Who would’ve thought that we’d all be sat here on a freakin’ mountain, all of us friends again, and celebrating my existence?” He giggled. “Now I know what you’re all thinking – ‘of course Niall would be the first to get married’ and ‘of course he has his life together better than any of the rest of us’ and ‘gosh, Niall is so handsome’ – but really, tonight isn’t about me.” Niall wagged a finger in the air. “No sir. Tonight is about my best friends in the world. Tonight is about four silly boys who grew up to be mature, incredible men. It’s about _you_ lot.”

“Hear hear!” Harry exclaimed and Zayn laughed, casually stretching an arm around Liam’s shoulders. It felt right, Liam thought, it felt familiar and a little bit like home.

“Louis,” Niall slurred, pointing at the man in question. “You probably never grew up and never will. But when I came to see you to ask you if you’d be my groomsman, I could tell that you were sad. Lonely. Maybe even a little pathetic.”

“Cheers, mate.” Louis said, raising his glass.

“But you proved that you’re a great friend,” Niall continued. “You told me you’d do it, and to be honest I think that maybe the biggest reason you said you would was so that you could meet Harry again. Maybe to hit him, maybe to bang him,” Niall shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Er… Can we move on to someone else now, please?” Louis frowned.

“Harold, Harold, Harold,” Niall said, taking a sip from his beer and tilting his head slightly to look past Louis and focus on the man buried into his shoulder. “You curly-haired ball of fluff. You have the biggest heart out of anyone I know and that’s what gets you in trouble.” He shrugged. “It’s not a bad thing. And there’s probably an alternative reality somewhere out there in which you’re king of the world.”

“God help us all,” Louis muttered, and Harry tapped him on the head in mock-annoyance.

“It’s so good to see them happy again, isn’t it, everyone?” Niall addressed a non-existent audience with his beer before taking another sip. “Here’s to you, Harry and Lou. Hey, that rhymes!” He laughed to himself and almost stumbled. As he righted himself, he caught Liam’s eye and suddenly his smile faded.

“You two,” Niall said, pointing at Liam and Zayn. “You two break my heart, y’know? I’ve never seen any two people fit so perfectly yet refuse to acknowledge it. It’s like… It’s like…” He scratched his head, searching for the right words. “It’s like you’re both puzzle pieces and you’re meant to fit together, but somehow you ended up being packed in different boxes.”

Liam could feel Zayn’s gaze burn into his cheeks but he couldn’t look at him. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he did.

“I think I’m wasted.” Niall said. “I’m going to go call my wife and – oh.” He slumped back down into his chair, some of his beer sloshing over the side of his stein and onto the oak floor. “I’m… She’s gonna be my wife. Marriage. Husband. Wife. Me.” He froze, staring into space with his eyes wide.

Liam exchanged a worried glance with the other three before reaching across the table to put a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Hey, are you okay buddy?”

Niall slowly looked up to meet Liam’s eyes. He raised his stein and drained the last drops from the bottom, before declaring in a deep voice: “My life is over.” He crumpled forward and started to cry.

~*~

Two hours later, Liam rapped lightly on Zayn’s room door in the log cabin that the five of them were renting for the weekend. He listened intently, wondering if the other man was still awake. Liam and Harry had stayed with Niall in the bar in an attempt to cheer him up and remind him how wonderful his wedding would be, and how much he loved his fiancée. Zayn had started to doze off after an hour and left for bed after Liam told him that he could handle the situation. Louis had followed suit shortly after, leaving Liam and Harry to stop Niall from getting another drink and then support him to bed.

Instead of heading directly for bed, Liam had decided to check to see if Zayn was still awake. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head that he needed to apologise to Zayn, tell him that it was wrong of him to push him into coming out when he wasn’t ready, and assure him that he would support him in his decisions. Maybe it was the general cheer of the evening or maybe it was the inspirational talk that he and Harry had been giving Niall for the past two hours, but for some reason Liam was pumped. He was ready to tell Zayn everything – every feeling, every thought he had had for him since they split up. He was ready to get back together, and after all of the time they had spent together lately, Liam was sure that Zayn felt that way too.

Except, right now, Liam was more sure that Zayn was more interested in getting a good night’s sleep. Liam was just about to turn around and head for his own room down the corridor when he heard a murmur from inside. He paused and listened with his ear pressing against the wooden door. There it was again – Zayn was talking. Liam furrowed his brow and tried the door and found it unlocked. He stepped inside, only able to make out the shape of Zayn in the bed, the blankets tucked tightly around his small frame.

“Zayn?” Liam whispered, not receiving any reply. He waited a moment more before turning quietly to leave.

“N-no… It’s not…”

Liam froze at the sound of Zayn’s grumbling voice. “Zayn?” He tried again, but was once more met with silence. Liam smiled at the realisation that the other man must have been talking in his sleep.

“No, he’s… He’s not. He’s nothing.”

Liam wondered if maybe Zayn was in the middle of a bad dream. Should he wake him up? The thought reminded him of the time that Harry had told the group that “waking someone up from a nightmare could risk killing them”, while Louis argued that Harry was mistaken and was actually thinking of “sneezing with your eyes open. Honestly, your face could explode.” _Sure, they’re idiots,_ _but they’re my idiots,_ Liam thought to himself.

“You’ve gotta listen to me,” Zayn murmured in his sleep. “Liam means nothing to me.”

After nine years, Liam had thought that he finally understood heartache. He thought that there was nothing left in the world that could upset or disappoint him. No sad film, song, or book had even gotten close to describing the pain he had felt nine years ago. But in the darkness, Liam stood and heard those five words that broke his heart all over again.

“Just… Just stay with me,” Zayn said, his voice a distant hum in Liam’s ear.

Liam had no idea who it was that Zayn was speaking to, or who he was dreaming about. But as Liam left Zayn’s room and headed for his own he knew only one thing for sure – Zayn wasn’t dreaming about him.

-ZAYN-

           On the morning of Niall Horan’s wedding, Zayn awoke to an email from one of the suits at the record company. Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he opened the message and read: ‘We regret to inform you that due to budgetary difficulties, missed deadlines, and refusal to cooperate with our agents, your record deal has been rescinded. We wish you luck in your future endeavours.’

           It didn’t come as a surprise. Zayn had seen it coming for months; he had cancelled numerous meetings with songwriters and had rejected suggestions of recording a ‘cover album’. He had been writing a little bit on the side for the past few months, and nearly had a completed song together. Yet it didn’t sound like _him_ – it wouldn’t fit his solo sound – and so the untitled ballad was shelved. With no songs lined up and no intention of succumbing to humiliating advertising offers and DJ sets, Zayn almost welcomed losing his record deal.

           Except for the fact that he was losing far too much lately.

           A month earlier, on the morning that they all grabbed a plane back to England after Niall’s stag-ski, Zayn had been stunned to find Liam being cold and distant with him. They had barely spoken since, and Liam had even requested not to sit next to him on the plane home. Zayn had no idea what had brought it on, especially when they had enjoyed a number of dates together since reuniting and had spent the entire ski trip smiling at each other. Hell, Zayn had practically become an exclusive cheerleader for Liam during their ski practices. Now, though, Liam wouldn’t even answer his calls, and had replied to only one of his texts – ‘What’s wrong?’ – in the past month with a cryptic ‘you’re the dreamer, figure it out.’ He felt a mix of disappointment, anger, and humiliation at the thought. Why he had ever believed that they had a chance of being together again was beyond him.

           After a quick shower, he slipped into his tux and fixed the designated green tie under his collar (“Why green?” “Because I’m Irish”) before meeting the limo downstairs. It was much more difficult to put a smile on his face than it was to get dressed, but Zayn had made a promise to one of his best friends. He wouldn’t let Liam ruin that promise.

           By the time they arrived at the ceremony, Zayn no longer needed to force himself to smile. The location was perfect – the site of an old ruined castle just outside a secluded, remote village. Blinding white seats had been set up at either side of an aisle that was covered by a soft red carpet leading up to a floral arch where the bride- and groom-to-be were to stand. In attendance were only the closest friends and family – Zayn recognised a number of Niall’s friends from home, hardly aged a day since he last saw them, and Niall’s parents smiling proudly at the proceedings going on around them. Zayn watched it all from a dark doorway leading into the castle ruins, with a cigarette between his lips, expecting to be alone with his thoughts when a hand tapped his shoulder.

           “We haven’t been properly introduced,” the young woman said, beautiful in her white wedding dress. “I’m –”

           “Amy,” Zayn said breathlessly. He gestured to the dress when she seemed puzzled that he knew who she was. “I guessed.”

           “And you’re Zayn.” She gestured to his face. “I guessed too.”

           He laughed, surprising himself. Of course Niall would end up with someone kooky, with a wonderful sense of humour and a stunning smile. “You knew the band?”

           She scoffed. “Of course I did. I didn’t grow up in the Amazon, y’know. You got a spare cigarette?”

           “You smoke?” Zayn asked, handing her one.

           “No, but I’m about to get married and I’m absolutely shitting it, so I need to calm down.” She leaned into his lighter and sucked in the first drag of her cigarette before coughing it back out again. “That’s disgusting,” she croaked.

           Zayn shrugged. “Sure, but for a second there you forgot you were getting married.”

           She frowned at him before a smile spread across her cheeks.

           “The place is beautiful,” Zayn said to her.

           “Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving smoke away from her dress. “Now, tell me about Liam.”

           Now it was Zayn’s turn to start coughing.

           “Oh c’mon,” Amy said, “I know everything. You know who I’m marrying. Why aren’t you guys together? He’s mad about you, and you practically wrote a love album dedicated to him. So what’s not working?”

           “That’s…” Zayn started, before sighing. “That’s a good question. To be honest I thought that things were going really well lately.”

           “I heard,” Amy said, nodding. “Niall was thrilled with himself, thought he was playing cupid.”

           “Yeah, except then all of a sudden Liam stopped talking to me.” Zayn chewed on his lip. “He won’t even look at me anymore.”

           “What? Why?” Amy furrowed her brow. “When did this happen?”

           Zayn smiled sadly. “Aren’t you getting married in, like, ten minutes?”

           “Yes, but this is much more interesting.” She tossed away her half-smoked cigarette. “Continue, please!”

           Zayn shrugged. “We were getting really close, and then –” Zayn paused, remembering to omit the detail that Liam had stayed up late to talk Niall back into marrying her. “And then Liam stayed up late in Switzerland and I went to bed. The next morning he refused to speak to me.”

           “Did you ask him about it?”

           “Yeah, loads. I tried calling him and texting him all the time for the past few weeks.”

           “And he never got back to you?” Amy asked, deeply involved.

           “No.” Zayn said. “Well, only once. He replied to one of my texts saying that I’m ‘the dreamer’ and could figure it out.”

           Amy blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

           “I dunno,” Zayn said. “I mean, I know that I dream big for the future and everything, but I don’t see why that would stop him from speaking to me.”

           Amy held up a hand and squinted. Zayn could practically see the cranks and wheels turning in her mind, and he was instantly reminded of Niall. A match made in heaven, it seemed. “Hold on,” she said. “You said that Liam stayed up and you went to sleep… Did Liam maybe come back to your room that night?”

           Zayn frowned. “I… I don’t…” He remembered waking up that morning and finding his room door open, but thinking that he had closed it the night before. He also remembered that he had experienced his recurring dream again that night. “Oh, fuck.” Zayn gasped.

           “What? What is it?”

           “I…” Zayn swallowed, looking into Amy’s eyes, filled with concern. “I get these really bad, recurring nightmares. And…” He gnawed at his lip, remembering the night that Doniya had woken him up, telling him that he had been muttering and screaming in his sleep. “And sometimes I talk in my sleep during them. Like… Like I’m living them.”

           Amy stared at him, understanding. “Zayn,” she said slowly, as if she was trying not to frighten him away. “Do you think that – maybe – you said something in your sleep and that Liam heard you?”

           He nodded.

           “Might you have said something particularly bad about Liam in your sleep?”

           Zayn had lived through that dream over and over again so many times that he could recite it from memory. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I might have.” Out of the corner of his eye he could see Liam – gorgeous in his tux – getting ready to stand alongside Harry and Louis at the top of the aisle. “I’ve gotta go, they’re getting ready.” He started to move off when Amy grabbed his arm.

           “Hey,” she said, “I’ve always found that the best way to get rid of nightmares is to confront them.” She shrugged. “It’s all in your head.”

           Zayn nodded, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Amy. You look beautiful.” He saw her smile once more before he hurried towards his former bandmates, his mind jumping from Liam to his cancelled record deal to his recurring nightmare and back. _Maybe I can fix it all_ , he thought to himself.

           “Cheer up, Malik,” Louis said to him when he saw his face. “It’s not like it’s _your_ wedding day.”

           Zayn reapplied his smile and Harry chuckled beside him, while Liam stared stone-faced at the floor. _I’ve got to fix it all_.

           ~*~

           It really was a beautiful ceremony, Zayn had to admit. Somehow they made it through without incident – nobody fought, nobody objected to the marriage, and, most importantly, both Niall and Amy said “I do.” When the ceremony was over and the newlyweds began shaking hands and thanking everyone for coming, Zayn set out to find Liam. It was time to set everything straight.

           He found him at the back of the castle hall, laughing and chatting to two older people that Zayn had not seen in a very, very long time. Liam’s parents. Zayn should have known that they would be here after Niall had told him that Liam’s mother had kept in contact with his own parents. Zayn approached them slowly, cautiously, worried that they might still harbour bad feelings towards him. It was Liam’s father that saw him first, and gave him a smile and stretched out his hand.

           “Hello there,” Geoff said. “Lovely ceremony, wasn’t it? Who are you?”

           Zayn frowned. “Uh… I’m –”

           “That’s Zayn, Geoff.” Liam’s mother said, her mouth tight.

           Geoff looked confused. “Who?”

           “Zayn, dad.” Liam said, putting an arm around his father. His eyes wouldn’t meet Zayn’s. “Remember? Zayn Malik? He was in the band with me?”

           Geoff slowly nodded before he suddenly seemed to understand. “Ah! Yes, of course! You were all very good, you know. Great lads. Catchy songs.”

           “Come on, Geoff,” Karen said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s go and thank the bride and groom for the invitation.”

           Geoff nodded again. “Lovely ceremony,” he mumbled while following after his wife.

Zayn didn’t know what to say. Geoff was sick. Geoff was _really_ sick and Zayn didn’t know enough about memory loss to know exactly what was wrong but the word “Alzheimer’s” was stuck in his head and he couldn’t get it out. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Liam.” He said, the words sounding pathetic in his own ears. “I had no idea.”

“It’s alright.” Liam said, still not looking at him. “There are good days and bad days. He… He’ll remember who you are a little later on. It’ll come to him, it just… It takes a while.”

Zayn shook his head. “I didn’t know. If you… If you or Karen need anything you know you can talk to me.”

Liam looked at him, his eyes dark. “What do you want, Zayn?”

Zayn sighed. “I… You’ve got to come with me.”

“What? Where?”

“Just… Trust me. Please?”

Liam stared at him for a moment, probably considering whether this was even worth his time. Finally he nodded. “Okay. Where to?”

“Follow me.”

Zayn headed out to the front of the castle where all of the cars were parked. No one else was around, still congregating inside to chat with the newlyweds. Zayn approached one of the limos that had brought members of the wedding party to the castle and tried the doors. It was open, and there was no driver in sight. “C’mon,” Zayn said, hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Zayn!” Liam hissed. “Are you stealing a limo?”

“No,” Zayn smirked, opening the passenger door. “ _We_ are _borrowing_ one. Get in.”

Almost an hour later, driving in an uncomfortable silence, Zayn parked the limo down a narrow country lane, next to a high brick wall covered in moss. He got out of the car, Liam following him silently, and walked along the side of the wall until they came to an open gateway. Zayn headed through while Liam hesitated. Zayn wasn’t surprised that he did – he probably would have done the same thing if he had been led away from a wedding by his ex-boyfriend only to be brought to a graveyard.

“Zayn?” Liam asked, his voice quiet. “Why are we here?”

Zayn didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to walk down a row of graves of varying gravestones – some were high, made of black marble with fresh flowers at the base, while others were just simple slabs, crumbling and forgotten.

He stopped at a pale, white marble headstone. There were no flowers here, though Zayn had been meaning to bring some along a few weeks ago but he – _no, no excuses here. Just the truth._ He sat down cross-legged in front of the headstone, and subconsciously started to pull at the grass beneath him.

Zayn heard Liam approach behind him. He heard him take a sharp intake of breath. He heard him choke out a “Zayn…” But Zayn wasn’t here for sympathy. He gazed at the headstone – at the beautifully carved ‘Patricia Malik’ – and nodded.

_The best way to get rid of nightmares is to confront them._

“Hey, mum.” Zayn started with a breathy laugh. “Long time no see. I… I’m sorry that I don’t come by more often, but… well. It’s hard, y’know?” He swallowed. “I miss you. I miss you every single day and sometimes it’s all I can do to just keep it together. I wonder sometimes how it is that I’m able to do just that, how I’m able to keep it together and keep going and take every day as it comes, but then I remember why I’m able to do that. It’s because you taught me to. You taught me how to live, how to behave, how to… how to love. You were the best mother in the world.” Zayn smiled. “And I know what you’d say – you’d say, ‘well how do you know that when you only ever had one mother’. But I know that I never needed another one, and that’s enough for me.”

He could feel the tears beginning to well up, but he fought them back. “There’s… There’s something I need to tell you, mum. And it’s really important, ‘cause, well, it’s been keeping me from having a good night’s sleep. I’ve been having nightmares, mum. And in those nightmares… Well, you ask me about Liam. Liam Payne, mum, d’you remember him? You always liked him the most ‘cause he was so polite and you always said that ‘there’s a boy who knows how to respect his elders’. Anyway, in the nightmare, you ask me if Liam is more than just a friend to me. And I tell you that he’s not. I say that he means nothing to me. And you don’t believe me and- and- and then you die. Again. And again. And I relive this nearly every night and sometimes I talk and shout in my sleep because of it, mum, and I think I finally know what I need to do. I… I should have told you a long time ago, but… You were right. Liam is more than just a friend to me. I love him. I’ve always loved him. And I’ve been so stubborn and I let my- my fear control my life. But I’m not afraid anymore. I’m in love with Liam, mum.”

“Zayn,” Liam said over his shoulder, but he barely heard him.

“I know you’d just want me to be happy, mum. So I’m gonna do what I can to make sure that I’m happy. Because I’ve lost everything I cared about in my life – I lost the band, then I lost you, then I lost my solo recording contract, and I lost Liam. But for once in my life I’m going to fight for my happiness.” Zayn stood and faced Liam and saw that he had fat tears on his cheeks. “I don’t know what you heard me say in my sleep, Li, but it’s not true. You mean the world to me. And my world has been a little brighter every day since you stepped back into it, so please give me a chance. We were doing so well.”

“I… I should have told you what I heard.” Liam said, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his tux. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Zayn. For everything.” He reached forward and brought Zayn into a tight hug that Zayn never wanted to leave. Everything felt _safe_ in Liam’s arms. “You should’ve told me, babe.” Liam whispered in his ear. “About your mum. I would’ve been there.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn whispered back. “I didn’t want to tell anyone. I… I was angry. Upset. But I’m going to be alright.”

They stayed wrapped together in that hug for what felt like an hour, before finally Liam pressed a kiss to Zayn’s cheek. “We’d better head back. I think we owe someone a limo.”

Zayn chuckled and started to follow Liam before stopping and turning once more to the grave. “Goodbye, mum. And thank you.”

-LIAM-

           “You got dropped by your record label?” Liam asked quietly on the drive back to the wedding reception. They were headed for a secluded five-star hotel that Liam had never heard of but that his mum had made ‘ooh!’ noises over upon learning that Niall and Amy had booked it.

           “Yeah. Just this morning.” Zayn said, his concentration fixed on the country roads ahead of him.

           Liam was still processing everything that had happened in the past couple of hours – Niall had gotten married, Zayn had lost his solo career and his mother, and he himself had realised that he was still definitely, truly, madly, deeply in love with Zayn Malik. He had wondered if maybe they had a chance of being together a few months ago, but after the ski trip he had abandoned all hope and had even denied any thoughts of even being Zayn’s friend. Now that Zayn had explained everything – and had professed that he still loved him – Liam found it difficult to understand. He was a little cautious, worrying that the world might be playing another trick on him, but he knew how he felt. He knew it was _real_ because he hadn’t felt like this in nine years.

           Nine years was a long time to be alone, Liam knew. He knew that his family had worried about him. He knew that he had become a bit of a recluse. He knew that he had been avoiding any talk or news of the other boys and, in particular, Zayn. But throughout those nine years he never thought that he would be sat beside Zayn again, or that they would have a chance to make everything right again.

           “Zayn, I…” Liam started, but hesitated. He didn’t want to mess this up. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. We were standing up on that freakin’ mountain and the thought came to me that I was partly to blame for what happened. It was both our faults.” Liam said, before adding a muttered You were right.”

           “What was that?” Zayn asked with a grin.

           “I said ‘you were right’, now don’t be an asshole,” Liam laughed back at him. “And about what you said back at the grave. I do too.”

           Zayn threw him a cocky glance. “You’re gonna have to say it, babe.”

           Liam sighed and leaned across in his seat to plant a kiss on Zayn’s cheek. “I love you too. You absolute idiot.”

           When they arrived at the wedding reception, Niall was outside waiting for them. He shook his head when they approached and the two men got out of the car feeling like bold children about to be scolded by a parent.

           “Well, guys, I guess I should have known that _something_ like this would happen.” Niall started. “To be honest I had thought that one of you would throw a hissy fit mid-wedding and stop the whole service, or that Zayn wouldn’t even show up–”

           “Hey…” Zayn protested, quietly.

           “So I suppose you guys hijacking a limo is pretty light compared to what could have been,” Niall continued. “The limo driver nearly called the police on you, but luckily his wife happens to have been a huge fan of us so now she’s here flirting with Harry until her husband can have his limo back. So fecking get in there and apologise to my wife before I murder you both.”

~*~

           Inside, Zayn headed off to apologise to the limo driver while Liam went to say sorry to the bride. Amy was speaking to a couple of older ladies when he approached, and she immediately made an excuse to leave them to speak privately to him.

           “Amy, I’m so sorry about the limo,” Liam started but he was cut off by Amy waving a dismissive hand.

           “Never mind that, its fine, we all got here didn’t we? What happened with Zayn?” She asked excitedly. “When I heard that it was you two that had driven off with the limo I was – well at first I was furious, of course, but that’s to be expected because you _do not try to piss off a bride on her wedding day_ – but I was so excited! Did he tell you everything?”

           “You knew?” Liam asked, puzzled.

           “Uh… Well, I mean, he told me about the sleep talking and the nightmares and…” her voice faded as she clearly wondered if she was saying too much. “But tell me, did ye make up?”

           Liam chuckled. “You know that this is your wedding, right?”

           “Are you kidding me?” She gestured to her dress, then to her face, and finally to her hair. “I look like a trillion pounds, my mother hasn’t stopped crying in six hours, and I haven’t eaten in three days – I know it’s my wedding.”

           “We made up.” Liam said, trying to stop himself from beaming and jumping around the room with happiness. “We have some stuff to talk about still, but… Yeah. I think we’re gonna be okay.”

           Amy punched the air. “Yes! Liam and Zayn are getting back together at _my_ wedding!”

           “ _Our_ wedding,” came the Irish accent from behind them. Niall put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you, man. Now, come take pictures with us because two of my groomsmen mysteriously disappeared earlier and I couldn’t get any pictures of us all together.”

           “Niall is a sassy groom,” Liam muttered.

           “He’s _my_ sassy groom,” Amy corrected, smiling proudly.

~*~

           A few hours later, Liam was dancing with Harry, Louis, Niall, Amy, and all of Niall and Amy’s family and friends around him. He hadn’t seen Zayn in a little while, but the DJ was playing some absolute classics from the 90s and he couldn’t resist dancing to cheesy music with some of his best friends.

            _Best friends_. They really were, he knew. Sure, it had been nine years, but he missed them all every single day. He wasn’t going to lose them after tonight – Niall’s wedding may have brought them back together, but he wasn’t going to let that be it. They may all have different lives now, but that shouldn’t mean that their friendship would end. He said this to Harry, who smirked back at him.

           “Are you drunk, mate?” Harry asked.

           “No,” Liam said truthfully. “I just love you guys a lot and I think it’d be a shame if I had to go back to not caring about you all.”

           Harry raised his eyebrows. “Well, thanks very much, I guess. Don’t worry, Liam, we’re not going anywhere this time.”

           After giving Harry a quick hug, Liam felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his tux and he checked it for a message. It was from Zayn: ‘We need to talk. Room 2061.’

           Liam frowned all the way up the stairs to the hotel rooms. Was Zayn angry at him? What did he do? Did this have anything to do with nine years ago?

           He knocked twice on the door to Room 2061 before entering. The room was huge, far bigger than Liam’s apartment at home. A huge screen lined one wall, while a short corridor led to a large kitchen, full of all the modern utensils and fixtures, with a number of doorways off it that led to a bathroom, the balcony, and what looked like a study. Liam was unsure how Niall and Amy were able to afford such a luxurious place for the wedding, but knowing Niall and Amy they probably had some contacts here.

           None of that, however, was catching Liam’s attention. Instead, that was fixed on Zayn Malik, who was sat on the edge of the king-sized bed with his shirt opened, a glass of champagne in his hand, and a smouldering look in his eyes. “Hey babe,” he soothed.

           “Hi,” Liam said distractedly. The sight of him had made his pants feel a little tighter.

           “So… I thought that maybe we needed to have a chat.” Zayn said, taking a sip of his champagne that he must have taken from the reception downstairs. “In private.”

           “Oh, yeah?” Liam queried, unsure whether he should sit down beside Zayn or stay standing.

           Zayn nodded. “I just wanted to ask you if, maybe, you’d like to get back together. Officially. Because frankly I’ve not been Liam Payne’s boyfriend for far too long and I think that I need to be back in those arms for good.”

           Instead of answering, Liam walked in front of Zayn and took the glass of champagne from his hands before setting it down on the dresser. He smiled, putting a hand behind Zayn’s head, and leaned in to kiss him. It was delicate at first, but then Liam _licked_ into Zayn’s mouth and it instantly got heated, Zayn grasping Liam’s back and dragging him down onto the bed, flipping them so that Liam was on his back with Zayn straddling his hips, grinding down on Liam’s already-too-hard cock still in his pants. Their tongues slipped into each other’s mouths with an easy familiarity, and Liam could smell Zayn – could smell him even over the cologne – that smell that reminded him of passion and summer and creativity and _wholeness_.

Zayn bit Liam’s lip and Liam gasped, snaking a hand under Zayn’s already opened shirt to push it off. He needed him, _needed_ Zayn to be naked and on him right now. Zayn looked serious as he shirked off his shirt, and Liam could understand why. It had been a long time since they had last done this properly. There seemed to be a lot of pressure on them.

“Hey,” Liam whispered, and Zayn – on edge – practically jumped. “Don’t be… like, nervous. It’s me. It’s us.” Liam shrugged with a smile and was pleased to see a smile grow across Zayn’s lips.

“I know, I just – I just want to make you feel good.” Zayn tossed his shirt away and Liam caught the sight of dark ink along his body. New tattoos that could be years old, and that Liam wanted to service with his mouth. His eyes subconsciously travelled to Zayn’s arm, to seek out a tattoo there but… It was gone.

“You –” Liam sat up on his elbows. “You got it removed?”

Zayn looked puzzled, but he followed Liam’s gaze and understood. “Oh, yeah. Like… A few months after getting it. Didn’t feel right – never did. It was a constant reminder of what went wrong and… And I didn’t need to see that every day, y’know? I missed you enough as it was.”

Liam yanked him down to kiss him once more, a lasting kiss that was meant to say a thousand things but really only needed to say one. “I love you,” Liam whispered when they parted, gasping for breath.

Zayn undid his belt and dropped his pants before responding with an “I love you too.” Liam shook his head in awe at Zayn, who he hadn’t seen naked except in his dreams for nine years. Even on the morning after their reunion dinner in London Liam recalled that Zayn hadn’t taken his clothes off. Now Liam remembered what he had missed, and Zayn had clearly been looking after himself – he was still slender, but his torso was more defined than Liam remembered it, with a toned stomach with a light smattering of hair disappearing down into his tight briefs, which were tenting at the front.

Liam grabbed Zayn and laid him down before planting kisses to his neck, and then all the way down to his chest, down along his toned stomach, and down to mouth hotly against the swollen shape of Zayn’s dick in the dark briefs. Liam smiled at Zayn, who was gazing back at him in both wonder and arousal, before tugging off his underwear and watching as Zayn’s cock sprang free. Liam hovered above it – already wet with precome – and breathed in the musky scent of sweat and sex and _Zayn_ that he had missed so much, until finally, with Zayn desperate and biting his lip in anticipation, Liam swiped his tongue across the tip, collecting the precome and swallowing it back. Zayn threw his head back with a low groan and Liam enveloped the head of his dick with his mouth, slowly sinking lower and lower, inch by inch, until it hit the back of his throat.

“Fuck babe – Li, you’re so…” Zayn moaned. “You were made for this.”

Liam bobbed his head along the shaft, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked Zayn off for the first time in _far too fucking long_. He surfaced for air, looking down at Zayn’s length, wet with his saliva and already leaking from the tip, and crooned a “beautiful”, his voice already a little cracked from having Zayn’s cock in his throat. “Tastes so fucking good.”

Liam licked along the impossibly hard cock and raised a finger to Zayn’s mouth, pressing against his soft lips for access, and Zayn allowed it. He parted his lips and sucked the digit to the root, getting it good and wet, knowing Liam’s intention. Liam peppered kisses to Zayn’s cock and waited a few more moments before retracting his finger from Zayn’s mouth and bringing it lower to Zayn’s entrance.

His fingers pressed lightly against Zayn’s hole and the other man hissed a breath. “You’re tight, Zayn,” Liam observed with a smirk. “Always loved how tight you are.”

“S’nothing compared to you though, Leeyum,” Zayn quipped back, and Liam palmed his own cock at the thought of Zayn pounding him. Liam used always love watching Zayn’s composure shatter while he rode Zayn’s dick, his head thrown back and all of his muscles stretching… _Focus, Liam,_ he reminded himself, his finger slipping into Zayn carefully, slowly, testing to make sure that Zayn wasn’t in any pain. “Yesss, Li, missed this,” Zayn whispered above him, and Liam took that as encouragement to push forward, fucking Zayn with his finger.

Liam slicked the second finger himself, and slid it in alongside the first while returning his mouth to Zayn’s cock. He looked up at Zayn through his eyelashes and swallowed him whole, being rewarded with another blurt of salty precome hitting the back of his throat. He slid up and off only to tell Zayn to “fuck my throat” and sink back down and engulf him again, with Zayn moaning and bucking up into his mouth, tightening his fingers in Liam’s hair. With every thrust up and back, Liam’s fingers fucked up and out of Zayn’s hole, and soon they were both moaning – Liam with Zayn’s cock hitting the back of his throat and tears beginning to catch in his eyes while Zayn lost himself on Liam’s fingers, a third one managing to sneak in and stretch Zayn even wider.

After gagging on Zayn’s dick, Liam pulled off and quickly flipped Zayn over onto his front so that he could add his tongue into the equation, licking at Zayn’s entrance. Liam gripped Zayn’s cheeks and spread them for easier access, his tongue pushing into Zayn and driving him wild. Zayn continued to groan louder and louder, and Liam just hoped that all of the rooms on this floor were reserved for wedding guests that were hopefully still at the reception downstairs. At this point, however, he really didn’t care, as Zayn’s muscle _trembled_ from his touch as he licked into him while he continued to slowly – teasingly – fuck a finger into him.

And Zayn didn’t hold back either. He pushed back against Liam’s tongue, wanting more, rocking back into Liam’s finger and breathing heavily. “ _Leeyum_ ,” Zayn groaned, “you always knew how to break me apart.”

Liam smirked, and licked some saliva onto Zayn’s hole for his finger to fuck into him, loosening him up and preparing him for Liam’s cock. He was definitely stretched out enough for him. Liam quickly began to strip and Zayn used that moment to grab a bag beside the bed and rummage through it, taking out a bottle of lube that looked unused. After removing the last of his clothes Liam snatched up his wallet and took out a foil wrapper that Zayn shrugged at. “We, um… We could… without?”

Liam nodded – they had stopped using condoms together a decade ago – and instead grabbed the lube. He slicked himself up, giving his cock a few strokes for good measure because he had been _aching_ for some friction since entering the hotel room, and knelt on the bed in front of Zayn. Liam felt he deserved a medal for not coming right there as he watched Zayn lie back on the bed and spread his legs for him. The sight of Zayn – with his eyes glazed over with want, his cock throbbing wet against his abs, and his hole aching for Liam’s dick – was enough to send anyone over the edge.

He lined himself up with Zayn’s entrance and leaned in to kiss him deeply as his cock pushed past the ring and slowly entered Zayn, going deeper and deeper. Zayn’s eyes were blown wide open when Liam bottomed out, and he was quivering, feeling far too over-sensitive. “Fuck, Li,” Zayn gasped, his voice shaking, “I forgot how – how big you are, how _thick_ – fuck…”

Liam pulled back a few inches before pushing forward again, watching as Zayn’s hands grasped the sheets beneath him. He repeated those motions a few times, remembering the feeling of being inside Zayn Malik and having his hole squeeze around his dick, the tightness feeling incredible and so familiar. When Liam pulled completely out, Zayn whined, until Liam thrust back into him fully, and Zayn yelled in pleasure, reaching up to grab Liam’s shoulders and pull him down so that their foreheads met. They stared into each other’s eyes as Liam fucked Zayn, and Zayn whispered to Liam that he loved him, he needed him, and _more, more, more_.

Liam leaned back and thrust up into Zayn, hitting that spot inside of him that made Zayn scream. He repeated that motion over and over, Zayn moaning harder and crying out “yes, yes, right there, yes!” while his cock leaked precome, smearing it along his tight stomach muscles and leaving his abs shiny and delicious. It was all Liam could do to not come right there, but he needed for Zayn to come first.

Zayn looked wrecked as Liam pounded into him, and he threw an arm over his face to muffle his moans. Sweat matted his hair, and Liam watched beads of sweat trickle from Zayn’s armpits, and he had no idea that that turned him on but he sure as hell did now. Liam reached out to take Zayn’s hard cock into his hand, but Zayn batted it away and instead pulled Liam down on top of him, ramming his tongue into his mouth for a quick kiss before flipping them over so that he was on top, riding Liam like a pro.

It was a sight to behold. Zayn had always been incredible at this, but Liam definitely preferred this more mature Zayn – his face was sharper with some grey hairs at the side of his head that drove Liam wild, his body was more developed, and his eyes beamed with confidence like younger Zayn’s never did. He was a man, not a boy, and Liam may have missed that transformation but he was still going to reap the benefits of it as he thrust up into Zayn, who pushed back down onto him so that Liam was fucking him deeper and deeper.

“So full,” Zayn uttered, his voice cracking. “Feels so fucking good, babe…” He bounced on Liam’s dick, raising himself to the head and sliding down to the base in fluid motions, his hole tight and wet and clenching around Liam all along.  

Liam swore he saw stars.

Zayn’s cock was leaking droplets of precome all over Liam’s stomach, and Liam grinned. “You close, Zee? You look – you feel close.”

Zayn looked him in the eye, his own eyes foggy from how turned on he was, and he tried to form words but couldn’t. He nodded, before slowing down his ride on Liam to a leisurely pace, teasing Liam’s dick further.

“Good,” Liam gasped. “I want you to come all over me.”

“Oh fuck, Li,” Zayn grunted, his hand going straight to his cock. A few flicks of his wrist and Zayn was coming with a cry on his lips, shooting come all over Liam’s chest, with some hitting his neck and staining the sheets behind Liam’s head. Liam continued to thrust up, even as Zayn’s hole spasmed around his cock and Zayn breathlessly pulsed more come.

Liam reached up to grip the Arabic painted across Zayn’s collarbone for something – anything – to hold onto as he continued to fuck the only man he ever loved. “So beautiful,” Zayn murmured, still on an orgasmic high, “you’re so beautiful, Leeyum.” Liam blushed and Zayn laughed, sending chills down his cock. “C’mon, Li,” Zayn growled, leaning down to kiss Liam’s dry lips before tilting his head to whisper into Liam’s ear. “Fill me with your come.”

Liam lost it.

With one final thrust up into Zayn he came inside him, releasing an intense load that Zayn rode through, biting his lip and groaning. Liam felt some come trickle out of Zayn and down to his balls, tickling him. Finally, Liam took a breath, and waited for his vision to properly return as Zayn lifted up and off him and lay down on the bed beside him.

They breathed together in perfect synchronicity for a while before Zayn rolled over to kiss Liam’s cheek. “We should probably get dressed and get back downstairs.”

“Yeah,” Liam said, loving the flushed look on Zayn’s cheeks. “But let’s stay here a little longer. That party will be going on all night and into the early hours of the morning – and I want to spend a little more time with the man I love.”

Zayn laughed, shaking his head. “Nine years later and still a dork.” He ruffled Liam’s hair. “Love you too, Li.”

-EPILOGUE-

_One Year Later…_

Niall fidgeted with the wedding ring on his finger as he walked through the back office of his restaurant and out onto the restaurant floor. _Horan’s_ had been the busiest it had ever been in the past few months and Niall had hired multiple new waiters and waitresses on top of extra kitchen staff to manage increased demand. Just this past week he had even met with his accountants to discuss the possibility of expanding and opening a second branch in Ireland. The thought of _Horan’s_ growing into an international enterprise had him giddy.

The sudden popularity hadn’t come from nowhere, however, and for that he had the four men sitting at the corner table – their usual spot – to thank. Harry, Louis, Zayn, and Liam were all laughing and clinking their wine glasses together when Niall arrived at their table (after shaking hands with and welcoming many of his customers, both regular and… irregular).

“Here he is now!” Louis cheered, “the man of the year.”

“Guys, c’mon,” Niall chuckled.

“Now now, Nialler,” Harry lectured, “credit where credit is due. In the past year you got married, brought us all back together, won the National Restaurant Award, and, most importantly, became a father. It’s incredible.”

“If sorta unbelievable,” Louis added, “who would’ve thought that he’d be able to control a child?”

“He was able to control the four of us,” Zayn smirked. “He’s been well trained.”

Niall smiled fondly at the four men in front of him, sat at their own table that they had sponsored and bought for the restaurant, in addition to buying shares in the company. They had each played their part in making _Horan’s_ a national landmark; Harry, through his connections to up and coming musicians, had encouraged his singers and bands to publicise the restaurant on their social media sites, as well as having them come to dine there; Louis had arranged for all of his festival managers and headline acts to eat there after their performances; and Liam and Zayn had both drawn attention to the restaurant in interviews after releasing a duet album together under Harry’s record label. They were too good to him, Niall decided.

“Are you two on a weekend off, at last?” Niall asked Zayn and Liam.

“Sort of,” Liam said with a shrug. “Zayn decided we deserved one, but here we are having dinner with our boss sat across from us.”

Harry winked back at him. “Keep buying me wine, fellas, and I won’t mind if you never work again.”

“ _You & I_ is doing really well in the charts at the moment anyway,” Zayn told him. Zayn had been writing that song, a beautiful love ballad, for months, and with Liam’s help they had finished it together, as well as putting together the rest of their album _Renew_. “But while we’re all here, Liam came up with an idea that you all might be interested in.”

Niall raised an eyebrow, “what is it?”

Zayn turned to Liam, wanting him to speak. Niall caught the love in Zayn’s eyes, and nothing but affection shining back.

“Well,” Liam said, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth now that everyone was watching him. “We were going to go on tour with the new album, play all over the UK and Ireland, and… Well, we were thinking that on our own we don’t have very much to perform. We only have this one album. So… We… We thought that we’d ask you guys if you’d like to put _One Direction_ back together for one last tour. One last hurrah. What do you think?”

Liam’s words were met with a stunned silence, and Niall, Harry, and Louis all turned to look at each other.

Louis spoke first. “I haven’t sung properly in… years. I’m more of an organiser now.”

“Yeah,” Harry added, “I’m the same. And I don’t know if we still have _it_.”

Niall nodded. “I’ve got a restaurant and a bar to run, as well as Amy and Niamh to look after.” He got a mental image of Niamh’s little pink booties and smiled. She was so small, only a month old, but Niall already knew that she was going to be just like her mother. An absolute beauty, and a terror too, no doubt.

Liam and Zayn looked at each other, disappointed.

“That said,” Niall continued. “If it’s only going to be a UK and Ireland tour, that wouldn’t be an issue. And it sure would be amazing to be on tour again with you guys.” He nodded at Louis, who grinned back at him.

“Yeah,” Louis said. He quickly sang through _do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do_ before announcing that “I reckon I still got it. I’m in too.”

All eyes turned to Harry.

“It’s your decision, Haz.” Liam said. “After all, we’re pretty much working for you now.”

Harry frowned, his eyes darting back and forth as if he was calculating something. “Well,” Harry drawled. “You all basically always worked for me before. Let’s go blow some minds.”

They clinked their glasses together once more, cheering. Niall pulled up a chair and joined his best friends, recalling stories from being on the road together and already planning where they wanted their last ever tour to go.

~*~

Two days later, Liam waited for the elevator to arrive at Zayn’s penthouse apartment – _no,_ our _penthouse,_ he reminded himself. They had moved in together nearly nine months ago, deciding that since they had spent so much time apart that they had a lot of catching up to do. At first it took some getting used to, always being around someone else instead of being alone all the time like back at his old apartment, but Liam loved living with Zayn. He loved getting to see Zayn first thing every morning and last thing at night. He loved getting to have dinner with him every day. And he loved being able to see to Zayn’s every need, be it sexual or otherwise.

He opened the door to find the apartment in total darkness, with all of the doors closed off. He frowned, shut the door behind him and cautiously called out. “Zayn? Are you home?” There was no response, so Liam hung his jacket up on a hook beside the door and made his way into the living room, pushing the door open. Liam gasped. Inside, the room was lit by candlelight, as tiny nightlights – probably over a hundred in total – were spread across the room, and _I think I felt my heart skip a beat, I’m standing here and I can hardly breathe_ was playing softly from Zayn’s battered iPod Classic. On the wall, pictures of Liam and Zayn together were being projected on a slideshow, ranging from their first days together to just the other day when Zayn snapped funny-faced selfies in bed first thing in the morning. And then there was Zayn himself, standing surrounded by candles, dressed up in a suit and tie and holding a placard that read ‘Hi Liam :)’

Liam stood in the doorway, his eyes flicking from the picture of Liam and Zayn tickling each other on a stage somewhere back to his boyfriend. Zayn replaced the first placard with another one that read ‘I have something I want to say but I know that I’d only fuck it up’, and another: ‘so instead I wrote it down.’

Liam’s eyes widened. _Holy shit is this happening?_

‘I first met you in 2010 and since then my life has never been the same’, Zayn’s words read. ‘I think I fell in love instantly, and hanged on your every word.’ Liam smiled, remembering how inseparable they had been back then.

Another placard fell to the floor to be replaced by ‘And then, 10 years ago, I thought I’d never see you again, and for 9 years I was miserable’. Liam bit his lip. It had been miserable for him too. He watched as Zayn made sure that Liam had enough time to read every word, with _one look from you I know you understand, this mess we're in you know is just so out of hand_ lulling in the background.

‘But then you came back into my life, and I felt complete again. It felt like home.’ Liam breathed a laugh at the small doodle of a house that Zayn had drawn next to the word ‘home’. Zayn took a deep breath and changed over to the next placard, while on the wall a picture of a baby Zayn and a baby Liam was projected together. ‘And that’s what I want from us: I want us to build a home together and start a new adventure together.’

Liam felt tears well up in his eyes. _Yeah,_ he thought, _this is happening._

‘Liam, I want to build a life together.’

Zayn gave him a nervous smile, and Liam noticed that his hands were trembling as he turned over to the second last placard. ‘So, I just have this one question I’ve got to ask…’

On the wall the slideshow faded into an image from a year ago at Niall’s wedding, with both Liam and Zayn sitting together at the reception in their tuxes, Liam mid-laugh as Zayn looked at him lovingly with an arm stretched around him. The placard dropped and was replaced by the last one.

‘Liam James Payne, will you marry me?’

Liam let the tears fall at last. He saw the hope and fear in Zayn’s eyes, and he remembered ten years earlier when he had asked Zayn about their future – _“Can you promise me that we’d get married some day and start our own family?”_ – only to receive silence as a telling response. He never thought they’d make it this far.

With _cause no matter what I do, oh my heart is filled with you_ playing in the corner, Liam sniffed out a “yes,” before finally giggling out a second “yes, of course.” Zayn dropped the placard and rushed to Liam in the doorway, seizing him in a massive hug before finally burying his head in Liam’s shoulder and crying with what Liam knew was a mix of joy and relief. Liam wiped tears from his eyes and kissed Zayn’s forehead, his nose, his mouth, and all the while smiled, laughed, and cried along with his boyfriend. His _fiancé_.

It was an hour later, as they were sat on the floor still surrounded by candles, watching the slideshow continue on a loop, that Zayn jerked up suddenly. “Shit, I forgot,” he said, his hands reaching into his pockets and pulling out a small box. “I had a ring and everything.”

Liam laughed and instantly took the silver band with the single diamond and slid it onto his ring finger.

“If it doesn’t fit or if you don’t like it then we can go get it changed,” Zayn started, but Liam interrupted him.

“It’s perfect, Zayn. Everything about this is… perfect.” He smiled, and kissed Zayn deeply. It had taken them a long time, and they had been through a lot, but in that moment Liam knew that everything was going to be okay. They were together, and he was going to make damn sure that they were never apart again.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope it wasn't too awful! Comments are love, and you can find me on Tumblr at http://electricwishfic.tumblr.com/ :)


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